Sympathy for the Devil
by victorious1314
Summary: Sam began seeing Lucifer when he was six years old. He's managed to keep it a secret for eight years, but will one mistake ruin everything? Weechesters/Teenchesters, AU, Non-Slash, Hurt!Sam, Protective!Dean/John, Official Warning Inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Sympathy for the Devil**

victorious1314

 **Warnings** : Depression, Self-Harm, Suicidal ideation/actions, Violence, references to Child Abuse.

Sam has forgotten exactly how long it's been since he began seeing the blond haired boy. He thinks he started actually seeing him at a rest stop in Michigan as he ate burgers and fries with his older brother Dean. Sam had probably been six at the time and thought nothing of the slightly older child who watched him intently as he ate. He assumed the boy was hungry or he lost his parents, but when Sam opened his mouth to call the boy over, he vanished. Sam put it off as his mind playing tricks on him because he was tired from the long car ride, but couldn't shake the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

The next time he saw the boy was in his dream that night as he lay in his shared motel bed with Dean. The seemingly innocent dream turned sour when the boy continued to do nothing but watch Sam with his strikingly blue eyes. Anxiety pooled in his chest as shrill screams filled the air around him. The blond boy smirked and his eyes slowly lifted to the ceiling above Sam. Sam's childish curiosity got the best of him and he looked up to see a beautiful woman with a bleeding stomach engulfed in flames. Sam jerked awake with a strangled cry and Dean was immediately holding him tightly. John, their father instantly became alert as well when Sam's crying didn't die down.

"Sammy, what's wrong?" Dean asked, worry thick in his voice. John came over to the bed and pushed Sam's sweaty hair from his eyes. Sam hiccuped a few times, trying to get the words out and finally said, "T-The woman. She was o-on-" Sam lost control once again as he remembered the smell of her burning flesh. Dean rubbed his back gently, "What woman, Sammy? What about her?"

Sam's tears fell faster and he finally managed, "She w-was on the ceiling!" Another wave of tears took him under. The blood drained from John's face and he pushed a shocked Dean out of the way. He held Sam in his arms and fearfully said, "Who was on the ceiling, Sammy?"

"T-The pretty lady, on f-fire!" John began shaking like a leaf along with Sam as he held his head against his chest protectively. Dean's eyes were as wide as dinner plates when they finally met John's. Not long after they finally managed to get Sam to fall asleep, his six year old mind not able to handle the stress and trauma of what he witnessed.

Dean and his father stayed up late that night, checking the salt lines and waiting, on guard for some unknown creature to attack. The next day, John, Sam, and Dean packed up the Impala and drove off, leaving the poltergeist case for another hunter to take care of.

Months passed and Sam appeared to grow more and more distant from John and Dean. John wrote it off as Sam growing up because he couldn't handle the thought of something being very wrong with his son but Dean knew something was strange about his baby brother's behavior. Even though Dean had only been on the planet for ten short years, he knew that six year olds weren't supposed to have bags under their eyes and flinch when touched. When he finally brought it up to his father, John miraculously agreed to take a break from hunting and stay with their close family friend and fellow hunter, Bobby.

What John and Dean didn't know was that the nightmares kept coming when the boy, whose name he'd been told was Lucifer, let him sleep. They became more grotesque and violent as time passed until they consisted of nothing but torturing Sam. Faceless shadows did the torture but Lucifer would always wake him up after a couple of minutes of it. Sam desperately wanted to tell his Dad and older brother about what was happening but Lucifer assured him that doing so would make them leave him because they would think he was crazy.

Lucifer would often follow him around all day, commenting on just about everything and singing songs until Sam hated them. Even though Sam refused to admit it, he had started becoming used to Luce being around. During his family's stay at Bobby's house, Sam started feeling normal. And with his growing childish happiness, the nightmares disappeared. Before he knew it they were back on the road again, but there was one detail that neither Dean nor John knew about, they had a new passenger named Lucifer.

 **\- Five Years Later -**

Sam groaned as he wiped the sleep from his eyes and stumbled into the dingy motel bathroom. Luce was sitting on the lip of the tub, examining a bottle of orange complementary shower gel. Lucifer watched patiently as Sam gets washed up and ready for another tedious day of school. Lucifer would be lying if he said he didn't get bored during Sam's fifth grade classes but he knew this would all pay off in the end. Sam combed out his hair and left the cramped bathroom. Lucifer sat next to an unknowing Dean and watched the usual morning cartoons. He groaned in annoyance when Dean turned them off and watched over the couch as the elder brother ruffled Sam's hair as he passed by and entered the bathroom.

Lucifer patiently waited until he heard the shower turn on to start speaking, "Ok, so we should ditch today an-" Sam cut off his words with a sharp glare, "We aren't ditching, I'm actually not interested in being homeless," he said angrily. The tall blond boy scoffed and said, "You wont even need to worry about a job, Sammy. You only have one job and that-" Sam cut him off again, "Luce, I already told you I don't like talking about this. Can we just drop it?" Lucifer rolled his eyes and turned the TV back on.

They'd been fighting a bit more often lately and Luce was considering bringing back the night terrors, just to remind Sammy whose boss. The shower turned off and Dean stepped out fully dressed in jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt. His short hair glistened with water droplets as he grabbed a handful of stale potato chips and stuffed them into his mouth. Dean tossed Sam his bag and asked with a voice muffled by food, "You ready?" Sam wrinkled his nose in amusement at his brother's full cheeks that resembled a chipmunks and nodded.

Dean dropped Sam and Lucifer off at the front of the Elementary school that they had been attending for the past month and started walking down the block to the high school.

"Sammy, C'mon!" Lucifer whined, "This place is boring! Let's go somewhere fun, please!" Sam silenced his companion with a slight jerk of his head in annoyance. The day went on as normal as can be expected until lunch time came around and Brian and Nicholas came over the Sam's table. Sam sat alone at the table in the far corner of the lunchroom so he wasn't surprised when these other boys decided he was a good target two weeks ago. Ever since then they've been taking his food and teasing him relentlessly. Lucifer had remained silent about it so far up until that day.

"Hey loser, you got lunch for us today?" Nicholas, a lanky kid with a beanie too large for his skinny head, said. Sam moved to wordlessly give them his sandwich when Lucifer's voice filled his ears, "Brian's mommy doesn't get out of bed anymore since his dad died and Nicholas' foster daddy puts out his cigarettes on his good ol' Nicky's arms."

Sam frowned deeply at the information, not sure what to think of it when Luce continued, "They're mean to you because it makes them forget about their own problems, you now have the power to remind them. You know I would never lie to you Sammy, put them in their place."

Brian stepped forward and twisted Sam's pointer finger backwards painfully while Nicholas smirked and said, "Are you ignoring us, Winchester?"

Anger coursed through Sam's veins, "Sure, Brian. Hurt me all you want, it won't make your mother love you," He spat venomously, "And Nicholas, you're nothing but an over exaggerated ash tray."

Lucifer burst into laughter beside him but Sam could only see red. Brian let Sam's hand go abruptly and Nicholas had tears filling his eyes.

"Y-You're a freak, yeah. You're just a freak and nobody likes you." Brian stuttered, aghast. Sam smirked and Brian grabbed Nick's arm to pull him away from Sam's table. Lucifer patted Sam on the back, "You'll make a fine vessel Sammy." Sam flinched at that.

Brian and Nicholas didn't even look at Sam for a whole week until one Friday they approached him on the playground. Sam sits on a bench in the shade, avoiding the hot, germy play equipment at all costs. The bullies walked up to him and Sam heard Luce mutter, "This'll be interesting."

Nicholas grabbed Sam by his collar and pushed him against the side of the brick school building. Brian punched in the stomach and the air was quickly knocked out of him. "How did you know about that stuff, Winchester? Are you a stalker? We always knew you were a freak but we didn't know you were queer!" Brian laughed.

Something inside Sam broke then and before he knew it Nicholas was pinned against the wall where he had just previously been held. The thing that kept Brian from helping his friend and kept him paralyzed in fear, was that Sam wasn't touching Nicholas. Sam's hand was simply outstretched in Nicholas' direction, as if he was using some unforeseen force to hold him there. Sam eventually couldn't take the pain in his head any longer and collapsed onto the ground, barely aware of the blood pooling on the ground from his nose. Images of fire and torture flashed through his mind and he yelled out in agony. He heard the muffled footsteps of Nicholas and Brian running away and curled farther in on himself. Somebody touched his back and he jerked away from the contact. A gentle hand rubbed this back in soothing circles and the pain slowly went away. He looked up with blurry eyes to see a young female teacher looking at him with concern evident on her features.

"Oh my god, you're bleeding. Let's get you to the nurse honey," she said in a squeaky voice. Sam nods lazily and Lucifer, for the first time in years was nowhere to be seen.

In the nurse's office an older woman helped him clean the blood off his face and took his temperature. The white, buzzing lights in the sterile smelling room hurt his eyes so he chose to keep them closed most of the time. That is until the nurse shined a flashlight in his eyes and he groaned in pain. She muttered something and scribbled some words down on a notepad, "What happened out there, Sam... right? Sam Winchester? You started a month ago?"

Sam nodded, "I started October first. I just got a really bad headache," he slurred. The nurse grunted in reply and said, "Yes, it seems you're having quite the migraine. Do you have migraines often?" Sam shook his head and answered the rest of her questions by doing that or nodding. She insisted on calling his father to come and pick him up so Sam gave her his current cell phone number.

John was out hunting a wendigo, that's why they were in the middle of nowhere in Minnesota. The nurse called Sam's father and looked worriedly over at the young boy whose face was twisted in unseen pain. Overall he seemed fine, aside from the bloody nose and dilated eyes, but it was obvious he was in excruciating pain. The phone picked up after the third ring and a gruff voice came through, "Hello?"

The nurse snapped back into reality, "Hello, this is nurse Edith at your son Sam's elementary school. I'm calling to ask if it would be possible if you or your wife could come and pick Sam up. He collapsed on the playground and appears to be exhibiting signs from a migraine." John rushed to assure her that he'd be there as soon as he can and hung up. Edith looked over at Sam and noticed him slumped in his chair, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

Thirty minutes later John came in and looked over at his eleven year old son's form on the plastic bed across the room. He filled out a form and moved to Sam's side, "Hey Sammy," he said softly, mindful of his headache but mildly annoyed at his son for pulling him out of the hunt. Sam looked up at his dad and grimaced at the light assaulting his eyeballs. John's breath catches in his throat as he saw Sam's eyes were no longer hazel but black, but when he blinked it's gone. He cleared his throat and continued, "You ready to come home, buddy?"

Sam nodded tiredly and sat up with his dad's supportive hand on his back. The world span for a minute but his gaze eventually settled on Lucifer sitting on the nurse's desk and staring at him with a smirk. Sam accidentally groaned in annoyance and John looked to where his youngest son was staring and asks, "What is it Sammy?" Sam's eyes widen and he mumbled, "Nothing, it just hurts." John seemed convinced and helped Sam walk to the Impala.

Back at the motel after he shut off all the lights, John remembered to call the High School to tell Dean that he doesn't have to walk his brother home that day. After he made the call, John sat on the bed in his conjoining room. He decided when Dean turned eleven that his sons needed to sleep in separate beds and while they seemed hesitant at first, they got used to the idea. Ever since Sammy's nightmare however, John had been keeping a closer eye on his youngest. There was no possible way that Sam could have remembered his mother's death. He was only six months old for Christ Sake! John was shaken from his brooding when he heard the hushed voice his son from the other room.

He held his breath and waited so he could hear better, fearing that Sam might be talking to somebody on the motel phone or worse, somebody in the room. John pressed his ear gently up against the door and he heard his son's next words clearly, "What happened today? I don't want to do this anymore, I'm scared." Sam's voice was high-pitched and nervous. After several moments Sam simply muttered an, "Ok," and John could hear the covers on his bed shift. After a minute or two John opened the door to their conjoining rooms quietly and looked at Sam, who had fallen asleep, tangled in the questioningly stained sheets of the bed.

Then in the classic John Winchester fashion, he drowned his worries in liquor, forgetting nearly everything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sympathy for the Devil**

 **Chapter Two**

victorious1314

Warnings: See Chapter One

P.S. Thank you so much for the kind reviews, I love reading them!

 **\- Four Years Later -**

The pounding in Sam's head is what shakes him from his deep slumber. A teenaged Lucifer watches as his future vessel wipes the sleep from his eyes and groans when the harsh beams of sunlight coming from the window assault his eyes. On the other bed, Dean stirs slightly, the small noise from his younger brother disturbing his light sleep. Sam takes note of this and creeps into the bathroom with his duffel bag and Lucifer on his heels. The boy doesn't meet Lucifer's eyes as he brings his metal flask up to his lips, because he knows exactly what he'd see on his tormentors face, utter satisfaction. The now cool liquid slips past Sam's parted lips and he shudders at the metallic and slightly sweet taste. The thick, crimson drink slides down his throat and Sam immediately feels the effects. His headache lessens until it is no more and the sensation of mind-blowing power fills him.

Lucifer lets out a breathy laugh and says, "You might want to slow down there Sammy, that has to last the week." Sam hears the Devil's reasoning and reluctantly screws the metal cap back on before a scowl settles on his face. Sam picks up the sound of the springs creaking from Dean's bed with his freshly heightened senses and quickly tucks the flask into the bottom of his bag.

Sam brushes his teeth to scrub the red stains from his mouth and grimaces at the red tinted spit in the sink. He showered the night prior so he simply washes his face and combs his hair out. Upon exiting the bathroom Sam sees that Dean is just getting out of his lumpy motel bed.

"Early start, short stuff?" Dean teases in a groggy voice and Sam simply glares at him. Dean enters the bathroom and Sam changes into a gray sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans. John is out on a hunt involving a large pack of werewolves, leaving his sons in a motel in a small town in New Hampshire. The hunt is expected to last around two months and Sam and Dean have been on their own for about two weeks so far. Everytime they move, Sam is filled with the illogical hope that maybe, just maybe, _they_ wouldn't find him again. However everytime he is proved wrong. It took less then five days in the new town for the demons to find Sam. He had been walking home from school, the fallen orange and brown leaves crunching under his sneakers, when a pair of arms pulled him into a alleyway. Sam had let out a yelp of surprise but didn't fight back, knowing what was about to happen all too well. A bulky man wearing an orange construction worker's uniform pinned him up against the brick wall. Lucifer smirked from over the man's shoulder as his eyes previously brown eyes turned fully black.

Sam gritted his teeth in longing as the demon pulled a familiar looking metal flask from the inside of his jacket. Robotically Sam handed the monster his now empty flask and the man snatched it away. He handed Sam the full one dutifully and smiled cruelly, "Drink up kid, we need you big and strong."

Even if the fifteen year old wanted to say, 'no,' Sam knew he would be punished for his disobedience. The man gave him one last fleeting look of amusement before sauntering off to god knows where. Sam had then continued his day as if nothing had happened.

Since then Sam had gotten one other refill of the damned liquid and despite his hatred for the substance, his addiction to it grew stronger with every treacherous sip. Dean drives Sam and himself in the Impala to the local High School that they had just recently enrolled in. The big brick building looms over them and casts a shadow over the busy courtyard. Students chat with their friends as the brothers approach and Dean claps a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam barely conceals a flinch but Dean doesn't notice, his eyes glued to the ass of Darcy Miles, the head cheerleader.

"Meet me by the statue after school, okay Sammy?" Dean says authoritatively but Sam is looking off into the distance, his vision swaying slightly and his blood feeling hot. Sam knows that his powers must have become this unmanageable because he drank that much demon blood in one sitting. "-Sammy!" Dean's voice cuts through his thoughts like a razor blade.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll meet you there," Sam waves his hand dismissively at his big brother's obvious concern. He walks away and disappears into the crowd of students before Dean can hold him there and ask him more questions.

"Are you sure you'll be able to sit through all of your classes in this state?" Lucifer asks playfully. Sam grunts in response but continues trudging towards his first class nonetheless. His Freshman biology teacher drawls on and on about the mitochondria for the better part of the period before abruptly stopping to shoot Sam a sharp look, "Samuel, if you can't pay attention then I'll have to ask you to leave. This is a warning."

Sam keeps shaking his leg and twirling his pencil between his fingers nervously, it's never been this bad before. Visions of blood, gore, and hellfire flash through his mind as Lucifer throws firecrackers onto the floor, causing Sam to jump out of his seat. All eyes land on him and a he breaks out in a cold sweat. "I-I have to-" Sam is cut off as another vision tears through his mind and he sprints out the door in an instant. Only a hall monitor idles in the hallway but says nothing as Sam makes a B-line for the restroom.

A dark skinned boy adjusts his glasses in the mirror and looks at Sam nervously as he takes in the boy's disheveled state. Meathooks hang from the ceiling and Sam hears the distant sound of agonized screams. "H-Hey, aren't you Dean Winchester's brother? Do you need me to get him?" The boy asks who he now recognizes as his friend's younger brother. When the kid doesn't respond and instead looks off into the distance with a horrified expression he makes the decision on his own and bolts out the door to find Dean.

Sam looks as his reflection with terror as his face morphs into something unrecognizable and the glass cracks violently. Meanwhile the older boy named, George, sprints back into his classroom. His eyes land on Dean and before he can get any words out, Dean's expression changes to understanding and fear, "Where is he?"

Dean's heart beats wildly in his chest as he follows George into the restroom down the hall to see Sam unconscious on the floor. Dean pulls his unconscious brother into his arms and yells for George to get the nurse. When his friend doesn't move he looks up to see him staring at a large crack in the glass of the mirror. "George! Get the nurse!" Dean shouts again and his friend is broken from his trance in an instant, rushing out the door. He cradles Sam's head in his lap and feels for a pulse, praying desperately for his baby brother to be alright. Dean's breath catches in his throat when he feels a pulse so sped up, that it seems inhuman.

Dean quickly banishes the terrifying thought and pushes his brother's sweaty hair from his eyes. "Sammy, please wake up. Please be okay." He pleads, a lump straining his throat. After a few seconds Sam gasps and his eyes fly open, settling on his horrified big brother. "D-De-?" Sam mumbles.

"Oh thank god. What happened Sammy? Did somebody do this to you? I'll rip their lungs out!" Dean practically growls. Lucifer giggles madly and makes blood pour from the walls. Sam squeezes his eyes shut and moves to sit up. Dean supports his back and rubs soothing circles on his shoulder with his thumb.

"I-I don't know what happened. I felt sick and I came in here to throw up but I guess I fell down." Sam has tears glistening in his eyes, he hates lying to his brother. Dean nods and pulls Sam into a gentle hug. The nurse enters and Sam immediately rolls his eyes.

About an hour later Sam is laying on the nurses bed, holding in his vomit because he knows it will all be traitorous demon blood. Dean is talking to the middle aged blonde nurse in the other room and Lucifer is humming a tune Sam doesn't recognize. It's baffling for Sam to think that there was a time he considered Satan his friend, someone who didn't just want to use him as a pawn and turn him into the very monster him and his family hunt, someone who cared for him.

Sam can pinpoint the exact moment he knew Lucifer was using him in his memory. It was a foggy, spring afternoon in Idaho. Sam had just turned twelve and was walking home from school without Dean because he was on a hunt with their father. Goosebumps rose on Sam's flesh, even though it was quite warm out despite the fog. A van pulled up along side where he was walking and a million defense mechanisms that he had learned from his father and Dean popped into his head. Besides the van and Sam the street was otherwise empty so help from strangers wasn't an option. Even though Sam was only one hundred pounds and five and half feet tall, he knew he could pack a mean punch if he had to, and he had the sickening feeling he would have to rising in him.

He tensed as the side door slid open and a man with a scruffy beard and a police uniform walked towards him. Confusion filled Sam as the uniformed officer of the law stopped before him. Police officers were supposed to be safe, weren't they?

The man finally spoke in a gritty voice, "Now we can either do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way, you little shit." His eyes suddenly flashed black and Sam found himself paralyzed with fear. Having never seen a demon before, Sam knew that his best bet would be to run away and not try to fight the monster whom he'd never encountered before. He turned on his heels and got a few steps before an invisible force held him in place. His breathing grew erratic as he noticed Lucifer was watching the scene unfold before him as if it was entertainment. Sam felt his demonic powers grow and thrash inside of him and he unsuccessfully tried to break free from the demon's hold. Then everything went black.

Sam woke up, tied to a chair in a darkened room. The same demon in the police uniform had his back turned to him but a new demon with equally dark eyes and a shaved head watched him intently. "He's waking up," the bald demon said with a sigh. The demon possessing the police officer turned around with a knife in his hand. Sam started fighting like a mad man against his bonds.

"Shhh, Sammy, just relax," the demon said as he brought the knife to his lips, "Everything is going to be fine. We're just here following orders, we need to make you strong enough the lead us when the time comes."

Confusion filled Sam's mind until bitter realization dawned upon him. Lucifer had told him that the demons, including Azazael, believed that it was his destiny to simply led their demon army as a general and eventually take the throne. Only Lilith, a few more upperclass demons, and the angels, knew of Sam's true destiny to become Lucifer's vessel. Sam felt slight satisfaction over the fact that he knew more than these bastards. The demon's proceeded to tell him of his 'destiny' and Sam had to stifle his laughter on more than one occasion. The knife-wielding demon suddenly slit his own wrist open and pushed the dripping wound against Sam's sealed mouth. The wound suddenly heals and the demon backs away, "I was hoping you'd do that," he says darkly.

The demons spend the next hour or so beating and torturing the twelve year old boy until Sam was a sobbing, bloody mess. His face swelled gruesomely, blood seeping from his nose and mouth steadily, arms and legs broken, patches of skin missing and cut, back freshly flayed with blood pouring from the wounds, and not a single area on his flesh left unbruised. The bald demon chants something that Sam can barely hear and all of a sudden, the pain disappeared and he was sitting upright again. Sam looks around to see the recently blood soaked floor clean, along with his clothes. He looks at the demons in shock and Lucifer bursts out laughing beside him.

The demon reslices his wrist and brings it up to Sam's gaping mouth, "Now are you going to be a good little boy, or are we going to have to do that again?" Without another thought, Sam latches on the monster's wrist and drinks greedily from the wound. The demon's dropped him off back on the now pitch black street and just as Sam started walking away, traumatized and strangely giddy from the power surging through his veins, he heard a gruff voice shout, "Hey Kid!" he turned around just as his backpack was thrown to the ground at his feet, "I packed you a little something. We'll be seeing you real soon, Sammy."

Sam watched the black van drive off and picked up his bag with his violently shaking hands to open it up. On the top of his folders and books, lay a simple metal flask.

Now all Sam can do is glare at Lucifer with complete and utter hatred as the blond boy hums and kicks his legs back and forth on the infirmary bed.

Dean stares at the nurse, dumbfounded. "Drugs?" he says irredicously, "You're saying my little brother is on drugs?" The nurse sighs and looks at the older sibling pitifully, "I'm saying that his heart rate is ridiculously high and his pupils are so dilated, his eyes almost look black," she stares at the obviously terrified boy with sadness evident on her features, "Look, I can see you really care about your brother and would do anything to protect him so I'm going to let you walk out of here with him, take this as a warning. I won't bring the police into it because I know your father is out of town, am I correct?" Dean nods and she continues, "I know putting this incident on Sam's record would be detrimental to your family, so I'm going to let this slide. But if I ever see him in here again, I won't hesitate to bring the law enforcement into this, do you understand me?" Dean thanks the woman profusely, all the while wondering what the hell is going on with his baby brother.

Sam and Dean drive in the Impala in tense silence. Dean's hands gripped so tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles are white and Sam looking out the window, desperately trying to ignore Lucifer's taunts. Once the brother's step inside the hotel room and Sam sets his backpack on his bed, Dean looses it.

"Drugs, Sam? Drugs? Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell were you thinking taking goddamn drugs?" Dean pushes Sam back a few feet and Sam looks at Dean with tired eyes and an expression that seems too old to be on a fifteen year old's face, "Dean, I'm not on drugs."

Dean scoffs, "Oh really, because the nurse sure as hell seemed to think so!" Sam closes his eyes briefly, Dean's yelling making his head ache, "Well she was wrong, I've never even touched drugs before," Sam tries to assure his livid brother. The older boy tugs at the ends of his dirty blond hair in frustration, "Well then what the hell happened?"

Sam sighs and runs a hand over his face, "I already told you, Dean. I felt sick so I ran to the bathroom to throw up and then I passed out. That's all that happened." Dean grits his teeth and crosses his arms over his chest stubbornly, "Then how can you explain your heart rate and eyes, Sam? And don't feed me that, 'the nurse was wrong,' bullshit. I felt your pulse when you were passed out and it was all over the place."

Sam lowered his tired body on the bed and placed his heavy head in his hands and said, "I honestly don't know Dean. All I know is that I'm really sick and all this yelling is making my head feel like it's going to explode." Dean's expression immediately changes into a look of concern and Sam feels even more sick to his stomach for using Dean's overprotectiveness against him. A half an hour later Sam is sleeping soundly in bed and Dean pulls out his cell phone, dialing his dad's number. He didn't believe Sam's story for a second and knows if he's going to get anywhere with his little brother, he would need his father to back him up.

A heavy feeling settles in Dean's stomach when his dad's voicemail picks up. John never misses a phone call from Dean unless something is very wrong. Dean decides he needs to take matters into his own hands and walks as silently as he can towards Sam's duffel bag. Sam jerks in his sleep but simply rolls over onto his stomach and resumes lightly snoring. Dean grabs the bag and brings it over to the couch where he opens the zipper as slowly and quietly as he can. Once the bag is open Dean doesn't know what to look for. A pipe? A bag of weed? He begins searching the bag, pushing clothes and toiletries out of the way. His heart stops when his fingers brush against something hard and cold. He pulls a plain metal flask with a small amount of sloshing liquid inside out of the duffel. He frowns, Sam didn't seem drunk.

He unscrews the cap and sniffs the liquid. His stomach lurches and he drops the flask onto the floor with a 'thump.' Blood pours from the flask onto the floor and soaks into the carpet. Dean looks over at his brother's previously sleeping form to find him sitting up and looking at him with horror etched into his face. Neither of them breathe and Sam jumps when Dean's phone begins ringing. Dean swallows thickly and shakingly flips his phone open and holds it against his ear.

"Dean?" His father's voice calls out. Dean breaks eye contact with his brother and relies hoarsely, "Y-yeah, it's me."

"Good, Dean I need you and your brother to get over here immediately, it's an emergency. I don't have time to explain, just get over here." John says frantically. Dean immediately springs into action and begins packing weapons into a bag, "Where are you? We're leaving now." Sam audibly gasps and starts putting on his shoes. John gives Dean the address of where to come find him. As Sam and Dean get into the Impala he says, "I have to go now, get your and your brother's asses over here, now!" Dean pulls out of the motel parking lot and begins driving so fast he would be immediately arrested if he were to be pulled over.

The demon possessing John Winchester smirks as he hangs up the phone and turns to the others, "They'll be here soon, then we can have a little fun with our, 'Boy King.'"


	3. Chapter 3

**Sympathy for the Devil**

 **Chapter Three**

victorious1314

Warnings: See Chapter One

P.S. Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter 3 I'm so glad you guys like it! Reading your reviews always makes me feel so happy. Also I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in about two weeks, I've been really busy with school and such :( I'm going to try to update at least once a week from now on. Oh and by the way, what did you guys think of the mid-season finale? Personally I was freaking out the whole time, poor Sammy :'(

Sam and Dean glance at each other nervously as they pull up to an old, rundown warehouse. Dean puts the imala in park next to their dad's dark blue van. The setting sun momentarily blinds Sam as they grab their weapons bag from the trunk. Sam wants to say something about what happened at the hotel less than thirty minutes ago, but one look at Dean's hardened features makes him decide otherwise. Dean takes his gun that's loaded with silver bullets out and motions for Sam to move behind him. Dean leans back and strikes his foot against the door of the warehouse, busting it open. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust but he is instantly on high alert, searching for a threat. His eyes land on his father, tied up and bloody on the floor. Dean and Sam sprint over to him with panic stricken faces and begin untying him.

"D-Dean?" he groans and looks at them through swollen eyes. Dean continues working the complicated knot that ties his father's hands together and grunts, "Yeah, it's me dad." John's breath catches in his throat as he realizes both of his sons are here, "Sam, Dean, g-get out of here!"

Dean stops untying the knot abruptly, "We're not leaving you," his green eyes meet his terrified father's brown ones, "Are the werewolves here?" He senses Sam tense up next to him but doesn't break eye contact with John. John's rough voice makes Dean's heart drop, "It's not werewolves! That w-wasn't me on the phone!" Suddenly it feels like ice is pumping through Dean's veins and he hears a chuckle from behind him.

Sam and Dean are then pinned against the wall by an unseen force. Sam growls in pain and frustration, he could smell the demons in here the moment they stepped in. Though he ignored it when he saw the state his dad was in. A lean man with cropped black hair and matching black eyes steps towards the brothers, "Ah, it's so nice to finally meet you, Dean Winchester... And Sammy, it's so good to see you again!" His voice is manically cheery and sends a shiver down both boy's spines. Sam narrows his eyes at the man in confusion but doesn't fight against the hold he has on him, not wanting Dean or John to witness his demonic strength. Lucifer watches the scene unfold from the sidelines with curiosity. Four demons appear from behind the eerily optimistic man and grab both Sam and Dean from the wall. Dean finds himself completely paralyzed from both the demonic powers and fear. He's never encountered a demon before. John never took him on hunts where there might be demons. Dean is placed on the ground and tied to a post exactly like his father while Sam is tied to the one in between them. His eyes sweep over Sam to check for any injuries before he shoots their captures the darkest glare he can manage.

"What do you want from us?" Sam asks with an intentional tremor in his voice. Dean thinks back to the flask of blood in Sam's duffel bag, does that have something to do with this? Was Sam practicing witchcraft and somehow got involved with demons? The demon with black hair said that it was nice to see Sam 'again', how long has this been going on? It's now pitch black outside and the old, dim lights on the ceiling of the warehouse cast dark shadows on everyone. The obvious leader of the five's previously ecstatic face melts until a scowl settles on it, "Don't tell me you don't remember me, Sam." He reaches forward and strokes Sam's hair, "We had so much fun together."

Sam gasps in horror and jerks away from the taunting demon, "You," he spits venomously. "S-Sam?" Dean asks in confusion. John remains silent throughout the entire exchange but appears a bit ill as his mind conjures up images of what the demon could be implying. "Aw, c'mon, don't be like that. I was only doing my job." The demon acts offended. Sam peers up at the monster who tortured him when he was twelve through his bangs and bites out, "You've got gall, I'll give you that."

The demon waves off Sam's comment and plasters a shit eating grin across his face, "I'm sure we can look past all that nasty stuff and get along fine now!" Dean's heart thumps wildly in his chest, how does his brother know a demon? How could Dean have messed up so badly at protecting Sam that this fucker got his hands on him? Sam lets out a breathy chuckle and stares into the monster's eyes apathetically, "I'll ask you again, what do you want?"

The demon's playful exterior shifts into one of seriousness in a fraction of a second. He glares down at Sam accusingly, "Information. We want information, and you are going to give it to us." A few of the demons behind him nod in agreement. As Dean and John tremble in fear at the demon's words, Sam tilts his head to the side as if he isn't the least bit intimidated by the warehouse full of monsters. "Let us go. I don't know anything and neither does my brother or my dad." Sam struggles to contain his anger as Lucifer whispers in his ear, "Do it, Sammy. Tear them apart. He turned you into this."

The demon breaks the silence as he burst into laughter and says, "That's a good one Sammy-boy," his smile falls and he grabs a fistful of the boy's hair before slamming Sam's head against the post he is tied to. "Stop, let him go you son of a bitch!" Dean yells. Sam's eyes flicker to Dean and widen, remembering his family is present. "Damon, are you sure we should-" A female demon with long red hair speaks until Sam's screams cut her off. Damon, the black haired demon, begins slowly digging his pocket-knife into Sam's arm. Blood trickles down Sam's limb and pools next to his hand. Damon tears the blade from Sam's flesh and the squelching sound makes John's stomach clench. Tears fall steadily down Dean's cheeks as he watches his baby brother be tortured in front of him and knows there is nothing he can do to stop it.

Sam's vision fades in and out for a bit but eventually clears enough to settle on Lucifer, kneeling beside him. "Sammy, you gotta kill them now, before you get any weaker. They'll just keep torturing you, Dean, and your father until you comply with them. Even then they still might kill you."

Sam shakes his head and speaks with a hoarse voice, "W-What do you want to know?" Lucifer throws up his hands, clearly exasperated. Harry wipes his bloody knife on his pants and smiles, "I sure missed the way you screamed, Sammy. We want to know what your true purpose is. We know Azazel has been lying to us, we know you aren't really just meant to be a general and the king. What we don't know is what you really are meant to become. What hasn't Azazel been telling us?"

Sam furrows his brow in confusion, he assumed that only Lucifer, Lilith, and maybe Alistair knew about his true destiny. He didn't know Azazel knew as well. Sam looks at Lucifer to see him glaring at Damon and the other demons with rage. "Sam, you have to kill them now," Lucifer practically growls, "This isn't in the plan. This isn't supposed to be happening." Sam shakes his head and says, "No, I don't care. I won't let my family see me like that."

"He's obviously insane, Damon. How can we trust anything he says?" A male demon with a bushy beard says incredulously. Lucifer continues nonetheless, "Sam, lower level demons aren't supposed to know about the plan!" Sam hisses as a lightening bolt of pain courses through his arm suddenly and speaks through his gritted teeth, "I won't lose my family." Dean watches the scene unfold before him in confusion as his brother speaks to the space in front of him. Is Sam hallucinating from the pain and blood loss?

Lucifer shouts in anger as Damon steps forward and begins digging his thumb into the fresh wound, "You will tell me what you know, Sammy," he yells over Sam's ear-piercing wails, "I don't care if I kill you in the process, I will get my answers."

The same thing that snapped inside of Sam when he was eleven, when Brian and Nicholas were beating him up on the playground, shatters into a million pieces.

The loud sound of glass being burst open replaces the sound of Sam's screaming and everything falls silent as all traces of light drain from the room in an instant. Neither John nor Dean can see a centimeter in front of their faces as their eyes search wildly around in the darkness. Dean yells out in pain as the ropes tying him up tear from his arms so roughly that he gets a nasty rope burn and a small trickle of blood falls into the crease of his elbow. Screams yet again pervade the room and the pungent stench of blood fills the air around them.

"Sammy!" Dean calls out, putting his arms out in front of him to avoid bumping into anything. John listens carefully for the sound of either of his son's in pain but can only hear the screams from who he assumes are the demons holding them captive. All of the screams stop in unison and a loud crack echos throughout the room before John and Dean find themselves completely drenched in a warm liquid. Several thumps follow the sickening noise and when Dean takes a step forwards he feels and hears something squish under his shoe.

John shakingly fumbles for his flashlight in his breast pocket as Dean tries to hold in his screams. The flashlight flickers on and the beam of light lands directly on a piece of a torso that seems to have exploded. Dean falls onto his knees as his stomach looses its contents on the blood soaked ground beside him. John directs the light onto his eldest son who is covered, head to toe, in blood and guts.

"D-Dad?" John turns to his right and shines the flashlight on Sam's equally blood covered face. "Sam, are you hurt?" He asks the youngest Winchester, knowing fool well Sam had just been tortured as he watched helplessly. He pushes his self-loathing thoughts away as Sam speaks in a meek and tired voice, "No, I'm fine. Where's Dean?"

Dean stumbles into his father in the dark, smelling of vomit and pulls his brother into his arms gently. "Let's get the hell out of here," is all John manages to say, droplets of blood dripping down his cheeks. The three get into the impala, too shell-shocked to say a word. They get back to the motel and wait until the coast is clear to slink their blood and gore soaked selves into their room.

Once all of the Winchesters are scrubbed clean of carnage, they sit at the table, none of them knowing what to say. As Dean stitches up Sam's arm with dangerously shaking hands, John finally breaks the silence, "Sam, you're going to tell us exactly what happened in that warehouse and why those demons knew you, and you are going to tell us now." John Winchester's voice is so icy and stoic that it sends shivers down both of his son's spines.

Lucifer looks at Sam with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face and moves to whisper into his vessel's ear, who shivers as the devil's cold breath touches the side of his face. "Last week, on my walk home from school, I saw a girl being attacked in an alley," Sam gulps as his family's eyes widen but continues anyways, "I ran up to help her, t-to get the guy off of her but he threw me against the wall without even touching me!"

Lucifer continues whispering the bullshit story for Sam to repeat into his ear, "His eyes turned black and he looked surprised to see me. He told me that he worked for the demon who killed mom and that I was special, that I was meant to be some sort of demon king!" Dean's heart rises to his throat at his baby brother's words and John can hear his blood rushing in his ears. Sam continues his lie, "Then my head started feeling like it was going to explode and I started screaming. He dropped his hold on me and I fell on the ground. The pain went away and the girl was long gone as well. He said that it, 'isn't supposed to happen this way,' and that, 'he'd see me soon.' I-I started to run so I could get to you guys but before I could leave he said that if I told you, he'd kill all of us. He tossed be a flask of something and I just took it and ran. Later on I found out it was filled with blood but I was too scared to throw it out so I hid it!" By the end of his story, Sam is blubbering like a child and Dean has his arms wrapped around him as if his body could shield him from the rest of the world.

"A-At the warehouse it took me a while to recognize him because he had a different vessel but when he said that he m-missed my screams-" Sam's sobs overpower his words yet again and Dean's arm's tighten around him instinctively. John's eyes appear watery as well but his voice betray his emotions when he angrily says, "You should have told us." Dean scoffs and defends his quaking brother, "He was scared, Dad!" John runs a hand over his tired face, "We're heading to Bobby's first thing in the morning. Some other hunters can take care of the damn werewolves."

Dean nods in agreement as he pushes a strand of his brother's damp, shaggy hair behind his ear. He finishes bandaging Sam's arm and John checks the salt lines before retiring to his adjoined room. Sam curls up next to his big brother on his bed, neither of them daring to turn off the light. They both cling to each other tightly, hoping the other can make the images of gore and blood stop flashing through their minds. Dean refuses to let himself consider the possibility that Sam could actually be meant to be a king of demons. He chants that the demon was insane and didn't know what he was talking about, that demons lie. The sound of his brother's soft breathing eventually lulls him to sleep, despite his very active thoughts.

Sam on the other hand fights down stinging tears as guilt eats away at his heart. The lies he fed to his father and brother grinding his already crushed heart into finer pieces each time he thinks about it. Lucifer rubs his shoulder and hums the same lullaby he would hum when Sam was six and had nightmares every night. Sam forces himself not to jerk away from Satan's touch in fear of waking his big brother. Needless to say, Sammy doesn't get a wink of sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sympathy for the Devil**

 **Chapter Four**

 **victorious1314**

 _Warnings: See Chapter One_

 _AU: Thanks so much for the reviews on the last chapter! They always inspire me to update sooner. Also I know I'm late but, Happy New Year! :) I also must apologize for typos, misspelled words, and grammatical errors because my computer doesn't have spell check so I have to use one online and it messes up occasionally. I try and proof read every chapter before I update but some mistakes slip through the cracks. Sorry it took me so long to update because of the holidays but I made this chapter extra long to try and make up for it :P Anyways, thank you again to the reviewers, I'm so glad you are enjoying this story_

John, Sam, and Dean pack their bags into the impala with little to no words exchanged between them. The peculiar and mortifying occurrences from the previous day, silently looming over all of their heads. John plans to find out just what kind of monster was able to tear apart all those demons so effortlessly, why it spared him and his sons, and if they are still in danger. He knows he hasn't exactly been on good terms with Bobby since the man threatened him but John feels he has no one else to turn to. Bobby also has extensive knowledge on the supernatural that John can benefit from, along with his big ass library of lore books.

Dean keeps a close eye on his younger brother and carries his bags for him, not wanting him to tear his fragile stitches with the strain of carrying something heavy. Unsurprisingly to Dean, Sam hasn't put up a fuss about leaving so suddenly. Dean can tell just by Sam's face that he's as antsy as him to put this town in their rear view mirror, I mean, who wouldn't be after what just happened?

Sam feels like he is going to explode. Not figuratively explode with emotion or anything. Literally explode. When he tore apart those demons last night he consumed more blood then he probably ever has combined. He thinks back to yesterday when he passed out in school because he took a couple more sips then he should have and has to suppresses a laugh. Sam can feel the blood flowing within his veins, he can feel his cells multiplying. His vision goes black every couple of seconds and he has to fight to regain his sight as he continues to walk and pretend everything is normal.

Once John has checked them out they drive off in the impala, the morning sun shinning brutally in their tired eyes. Sam curls up on his side in the back seat and looses consciousness within mere seconds. Dean watches the New Hampshire scenery blend together in a red and orange mess out his window from the speed of the car. It'll take a day's worth of driving to reach Bobby's so Dean nods off to sleep after a couple minutes as well, leaving John alone with his thoughts. He doesn't hold any anger towards Sam for not telling them about his encounter with the black haired demon, not really. He supposes he would have done the same thing if he knew his family was in danger. After all Sam is only fifteen years old, he shouldn't have to be in these kinds of situations anyways. Sam and Dean should be worrying about acne, prom dates, and schoolwork. Not demons, monsters, and their lives. Guilt weighs down John's heart as he gets onto the highway. He forces his guilt into the back of his mind with thoughts of Mary. He needs to avenge her, even if his sons have to miss out on a normal childhood.

It's pitch black out when Sam starts screaming. John nearly crashes the car into a tree, having been searching for an inconspicuous motel to stop in for the night. Sam jolts up off the seat as if he's being electrocuted and John pulls off to the side of the dirt road. Dean begins shaking Sam awake, who is sweating heavily and shivering. The first thought in both John and Dean's minds is, infection. Sam's wound from the torture by Damon must have become horribly infected. Guilt makes Dean's vision cloud with tears, he must have stitched Sammy up in properly. Sam finally awakes and his heart-wrenching sobs fill the small space of the impala.

Dean puts a hand on Sam's forehead to discover that instead of him burning up from what he'd assumed was infection, he is utterly freezing. As if he'd been standing outside in a blizzard for a half an hour. "Jesus, Sammy! You're freezing! Dad, get blankets!" Dean exclaims. Sam tries to insist that he's fine, that he had just had a nightmare, leaving out the parts that Lucifer had been torturing him of course, but Dean was already throwing his car door open and rushing to help his father search for a thermal blanket in the trunk.

Lucifer snickers at Sam's distraught face. Sam shudders at the sound and glares at the devil, "Why are you doing this?" Luce rolls his eyes and responds, "Because I can."

Sam narrows his eyes at the blond boy and stares at his shaking hands, deep in thought. Lucifer hasn't tortured Sam in years, and it's only when he's done something to really upset him. If anything Lucifer should be happy with Sam right now. He did exactly what Satan said to do with the demons and the lying to his family. He considers Luce's answer, 'Because I can,' and decides that he's bullshitting him. Lucifer may be eccentric but he doesn't just torture Sam for no good reason. Sam feels his heart rate pick up and his blood rush in his ears as a new thought enters his mind. Perhaps Lucifer is trying to weaken him. Maybe Sam is so strong now that he can overpower Lucifer. After all, it's a 'miracle' that he can reach Sam from within the cage in the first place.

Sam's thoughts are interrupted by the startling noise of the car door being wrenched open and the warmth of a heated blanket enveloping him. Dean slides in to sit next to him and pull him into his arms before pulling him back to examine his brother's face. Sam's hair sticks to the sides of his face from the unexplainable sweat and his hazel eyes have dark bags under them. His cheekbones jut out sharply, giving his cheeks a hollow look, and his eyes dart around on Dean's face, as if he just witnessed something horrible and is in shock.

"Sammy, did you have a nightmare?" Dean asks softly, praying that he isn't physically ill and that this is just a normal reaction from having demons explode in front of you and being coated with their guts. Sam nods and lets out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding. John eventually finds a motel and they all settle in for the night, Dean yet again refusing to leave Sam's side. He tells himself it's for Sammy and not because he's afraid of the dark and what happens when you can't see, but neither him nor Sam miss the way he flinches at the soft, 'click,' of the lamp turning off.

The next morning as they eat at a diner across the street, John announces that they'll be at Bobby's by nightfall and remembers he has yet to call the man and tell him they were coming. John leaves the table to call Bobby on his cell phone, leaving Sam and Dean briefly in the quiet restaurant.

"You really need to eat some of your food, Sam." Dean says firmly, his eyes locked on Sam's full plate of over easy eggs, bacon, and toast. Sam shrugs and continues to poke the yolk of one of his eggs until it breaks and seeps onto the edge of a piece of bacon. Dean sighs angrily, "Damnit, Sammy. How long has it been since you last ate? Did you even eat before we left the motel in New Hampshire?"

Sam shrugs again and takes a bite of his eggs to please Dean, not wanting his older brother to become upset with him. He grimaces at the slippery texture as it glides down his throat and looks up at Dean, who smiles softly at his younger brother. John comes back with a scowl on his face and takes a bite of his sausage with a dark look in his eyes. "What'd Bobby say?" Dean asks, expecting the worse. John sighs and takes a sip of his coffee, "Bobby's still got quite the mouth on him but otherwise he said he'll help. He's already getting rooms ready for us."

Dean smiles at the news, always enjoying when they got to stay at Bobby's. Sam and him would spend hours wandering through the maze of hollow and rusted cars, just talking about whatever came to their mind. Their dad always seemed a bit more at ease there as well, probably because of another hunter being present to protect his sons if things turned sour.

The Winchesters drive the rest of the trip while listening to John's classic rock tapes and enjoying the silence that enveloped them. Sam's pain had decreased slightly after the diner but he still felt like he was going to burst with power. Every bump in the road made his heart race as his demonic energy threatened to lash out. Finally, as the sun was setting, they pulled up to Bobby's scrapyard. Relief settling in all of their stomachs. Sam reveled at the prospect of working off some of his energy when no one was around. His throat tightened in anxiety as thoughts of forcing Lucifer away from him filled his mind. He can't believe he's actually considering this, even thinking about it. As they pull up to Bobby's shack-like house, they immediately spot the older man on his porch with his usual tattered, oil stained, baseball cap sitting snugly atop his balding head.

Dean gets out of the car first to give the old family friend a brief hug and thanks for taking them in on such short notice. John grabs some bags from the trunk, avoiding Bobby's eyes, but eventually nods his thanks in the man's direction as well. Sam stretches his rapidly growing legs and grimaces when they creak and pop.

Once they all have their bags in their rooms, Sam and Dean sharing a guest room while John sleeps on he couch, they sit down in Bobby's dusty study. Plies of books touch the ceiling, reaching the red devils traps painted above their heads. Bobby has them all drink from a cup of holy water and Sam ignores the way it slightly fizzes like soda in his mouth.

"So tell me what the hell you idjits have gotten yourselves into now." Bobby says with his southern accent. Dean unintentionally moves towards Sam a bit and clenches his jaw as the memories assault his mind. John yet again, breaks the silence, "I was out, interrogating a werewolf in northern New Hampshire when I caught the smell of sulfur. I quickly shot the werewolf in the heart, knowing that a bigger threat was going to show up any second, when I was thrown across the room. I was possessed and thats when my memory gets a bit fuzzy."

"I remember the demon using me to talk to some other demons but I can't remember what they were saying to each other. I somehow ended up in an empty warehouse in the middle of nowhere with the other demons when the son of a bitch possessing me calls Dean and tells him to get over there with Sam." John groans, clearly frustrated and continues, "Next thing I know, I'm no longer possessed, Dean and Sam are there, and they're tied up along with me. The demon who was possessing me, named Damon, now has another meat suit and starts talking to Sam. Saying that he wanted information and he knew Sam knew more than him. Sam seemed the recognize him and said that he didn't know anything. The demon starts cutting Sam and yelling all sorts of crazy shit and the lights go out. The ropes that were tying me down are torn from me and we're all covered in blood. I turn on the flashlight and everything in the room, besides Sam, Dean, and I, are torn apart." John gets a haunted look in his eye but quickly masks it with his professionalism, "I swear to god, Bobby, it looked like a nuke went off in there."

"We left and once we were all cleaned and patched up, Sam told us about how he knew the demon. He said that he saw the demon named Damon when he was walking home from school a week ago attacking some girl and when he tried to help her he attacked him. Apparently he said something about seeing Sam soon and told him that if he told Dean or I, he would kill him. Then we decided to come to you. We figured that you have so much books and information that maybe we could figure out what kind of creature was able to tear apart all of those demons and if it could be after us." John finishes his recount of what happened and both Dean and Sam wonder why he didn't bring up that Damon said that he was supposed to become King of the Demons. Didn't John trust Bobby? After all, Bobby has cared for Sam and Dean as if they were his own sons more times than any of them can count.

Bobby whistles at the new information and shakes his head, "Sounds like you got yourselves in a big heaping mess of shit. I'll help you look through the lore but I'll tell you honestly that I've never heard of anything with that kind of power before. Whatever it is, it's something that should be feared."

Lucifer snorts and Sam feels tears sting the back of his eyes. He needs to put a stop to this. He needs to overpower Lucifer, his destiny be damned. Sam's energy level is still dangerously high now, If only he can evade Lucifer sucking the energy out of him for one more night, maybe he can get some time alone tomorrow to stand up to the Devil. The idea of using his family as reinforcements is quickly banished from his mind, they would see him as a monster and he wouldn't put them in danger.

After a quick meal that Sam expertly evades eating, they settle in for the night. For the first time since the incident in the warehouse, Sam and Dean sleep in different beds. Well, Dean sleeps. Sam forces his burning eyes open, refusing to become Lucifer's torture victim in his dreams again.

The rising sun makes Sam's stomach churn with anxiety, he's been keeping his powers trapped inside of him for so long that even his bones are starting to ache. At the breakfast table Sam struggles to swallow even the smallest of bites, the lump in his throat starting to burn. Bobby leaves to go work on a car in his garage with Dean, leaving Sam with John.

"H-Hey, Dad?" Sam struggles to steady his voice. John looks up from his plate and grunts in acknowledgment. Sam continues, "Would it be alright if I went for a walk around the yard? I wont go far." Sam's voice raises a few octaves and he prays his father doesn't notice his obvious anxiety. John picks up a newspaper from the table, "Yeah, sure go ahead." He says dismissively.

Sam fights the urge to breathe a sigh of relief and leaves through the back door. Sam wanders for several minutes, traveling deeper into the junkyard. "Ready to work off some of that demon mojo, Sammy?" Lucifer laughs. Sam spins around, right in front of Lucifer's face, "You're scared of me." He states with a smile on his face, though his voice is devoid of any humor. Lucifer bursts into giggles and says, "That's a funny one, Sammy."

Sam growls, "Don't call me that." Luce looks at Sam like he's suddenly grown two heads and matches his rage, "I'll call you whatever I like, Sammy. You're my little bitch and always will be. Now why would you think I would be scared of you?"

Meanwhile, Bobby wanders back into the house, hands dirtied with black oil stains. "Where's Sam?" He asks John, "I wanna ask if he wants to help me and Dean with the car." John looks up from the sports section and grumbles, "He just went out to walk around the yard, he said he wouldn't be far."

Bobby nods and heads out the back door to look for Sam.

"I know you, Lucifer. I know when you're intimidated by someone, and you're intimidated by me. Ever since I drank that demon blood at the warehouse, I've been stronger than you, and you know it. Thats why you've been trying to weaken me, that's why you've been torturing me." Sam and Lucifer begin to move in slow circles around each other, as if waiting for the right time to strike.

Bobby hears a muffled conversation and sneaks up to see Sam acting strange, with a look of pure malice carved on his face.

"You're even stupider than I thought, Sammy. Do you honestly think I could ever be intimidated by someone, no, something like you? You aren't even human, you're less than human. A filthy monster." Sam's eyes turn pure white and dark energy seems to radiate from his body, "Who do you think made me like this?" Sam screams.

Bobby watches, terrified, as Sam's hand shoots up and throws something invisible against a rusty shell of a car.

Lucifer grunts as the car dents from his body hitting it so hard and pushes against Sam's force. He barely manages to escape his hold but uses his first window of opportunity to slam Sam against the ground, his hands gripping tightly at his pale throat.

Bobby watches as a blond haired boy appears out of nowhere and attacks Sam. Sam's eyes flicker back to their normal color and he throws the other teenage boy off of him, wrestling him to the ground. Bobby unfreezes, charges at the tumbling pair, and pulls Sam off of the blond boy. Sam pushes Bobby off of him and stumbles back a few steps, his nose bleeding, and clearly dazed.

Sam looks around for any sign of Lucifer but finds none, only the dent of the car he'd thrown him into left behind. "Where the hell did that kid go?" Bobby's words pull Sam from his searching and he looks up at Bobby, who is clearly mortified. Bobby grabs Sam's arm and starts pulling him towards his house, obviously having witnessed Sam using his abilities and needing answers. He isn't surprised when Sam pulls from his grasp.

"Uncle Bobby please, just let me explain!" Sam says, feeling so anxious he can hardly breathe. Bobby looks at Sam with a cold expression, "Christo." Sam feels something creep up his spine but otherwise remains unaffected by the word.

John looks at the back door nervously when Dean comes in from the garage to ask where Sammy and Bobby are. "Bobby went out to look for Sam about 10 minutes ago," John mumbles. Dean's heart rate picks up and he pushes the door open, his father on his tail, hand on his gun belt.

Bobby remains stoic, "What are you?" Bobby could tell something wasn't right with the story John told him, he knew there were parts being left out. Perhaps Sam has something to do with all of this somehow. If the creature standing before him is even Sam. "I'm Sam, Bobby. Just please let me explain," Sam's words come out in short gasps as if he's on the verge of a panic attack. Bobby replies after a pregnant pause, "Yeah you can come back inside and explain exactly what in the hell is going on."

Sam shakes his head so hard that his floppy brown hair swishes in his eyes. Sam's eyes widen enormously, "N-No Uncle Bobby. My dad and brother can't know about this! It isn't in the plan, I'll be in big trouble!" Sam begins nervously wringing his hands as he tries to even his breathing. Bobby takes an intimidating step towards Sam, "Either I can tell them or you can. You choose."

Sam feels like he's going to vomit, "No, no, no, no, you don't understand!" He rakes his hands through his hair roughly, a dark stain growing on his forearm from what Bobby assumes are his torn stitches. Bobby pulls out his gun and points it at the monster, "That wasn't a request." The next thing Bobby knows he is flung across the small clearing and pinned against a rusty blue truck, his gun is on the ground next to Sam. Sam feels tears stinging in his eyes and his breathing become unmanageable. Bobby looks at Sam's now completely white eyes and feels a shiver run through his entire body. Whatever is possessing the boy is nothing he's ever encountered before.

Dean hears a loud crash from up ahead and pulls his knife from it's sheath. He turns around a corner in the maze of stacked, wrecked cars and feels his blood turn to ice. Sam has his hand extended towards Uncle Bobby, who is pinned up against a truck, and his eyes are a bright white. Dean's throat is constricted so tightly from fear and anger at whatever is possessing his baby brother that he feels he might loose consciousness. He takes a step forward but John yanks his eldest son back by his arm.

Dean glances back at his father angrily but John merely shakes his head and presses a finger to his own lips. Dean's nails bite into his skin in frustration but otherwise follows his orders.

Sam feels his powers threaten to lash out at Bobby but after several moments he gains control again. "Uncle Bobby," he says, his voice still wavering and broken by small sobs and hitches of breath, "I don't want to hurt you. Please listen to me."

Bobby can't find his voice to speak so instead nods, his eyes wide and terrified. Sam continues, his completely blank gaze unrelenting, "My dad and brother can't know about this. I'll be in big trouble if they do." Dean watches in confused horror as his brother's shoulders shake from fear and sobs.

"Y-You have to understand. That I'm trying to-I'm trying to make things right." Sam sways on his feet, feeling his world spin. The words come tumbling out of his mouth ungracefully as he miserably attempts to formulate the correct words to convince Bobby not to tell his family. "I d-don't want to be in trouble." His words fall off his lips weakly and he looses his grip on Bobby completely. John taps twice on Dean's back as a signal to move forward. Sam's knees buckle beneath him and his eyes return to normal. Sam looks up at Dean lazily as warm blood trickles from his nose and down his chin.

Just as John is about to pin Sam to the ground, he looks up at the sky through hooded lids and says softly, "I'm scared." Sam face plants on the ground and Dean sweeps him into his arms. "Get him to the house and tie him down!" John orders, his voice stern with authority. Dean scoops his lanky brother into his arms and starts jogging towards the house, needing to get there before whatever is inside of Sam wakes up. How long has Sam been possessed? How could Dean, the big brother who is supposed to take care of Sam, not notice he was in such a state.

John helps Bobby to his feet who grunts in pain. "You alright?" John asks. Bobby nods quickly, "Yeah, just might'a pulled something." John claps a hand on his friend's shoulder and starts towards the house to help Dean. "John?" Bobby says gruffly. John turns around impatiently, "Yeah?"

"This thing's a demon, but nothing like I've ever seen or even heard of. We need to be real careful around it." Bobby mutters, adjusting his baseball cap. John raises his eyebrows as if to ask, 'is that all?' Bobby continues hesitantly, "You also need to be prepared if this turns out to really be Sam, John."

John scowls at the older man, aghast, "Bobby, no offense but I think I would know if my son was demonic." Bobby runs a tired hand down his face, "Well, John, you sure as hell didn't notice that he was possessed, now did ya?"

John rolls his eyes, though his stomach lurches at the idea of his son having something other then demonic possession wrong with him. He stifles a sad laugh, how could things have gotten like this? Wordlessly, Bobby and John race back to the house to see Dean tying his brother up on a chair underneath a devils trap on the ceiling. Dean's hands shake violently and his heart jumps every time his brother so much as flinches. Bobby grabs a jug of what John assumes is holy water and a bag of rock salt. Dean finishes tying the last of the knots and checks his brother for injuries. Sam's arm is bleeding again but Dean knows he shouldn't mess with it until they've managed to exorcise whatever entity is inside of his little brother first.

Dean thanks his dad when he places a cold beer in his hand and waits anxiously for Sa-not Sammy to wake up.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sympathy for the Devil**

 **Chapter Five**

victorious1314

Warnings: See Chapter One

AU: _Hey, Guys. Sorry I haven't updated in so long :( I was hospitalized but now I'm out. Thanks so much for the kind reviews on the last chapter :) They always make my day._

Sam Winchester's vision is completely black and all he can hear is a very high pitched ringing noise that seems to come from his own eardrums. Eventually he can make out some muffled, deep voices as his vision begins to clear. His arm's feel squeezed and uncomfortable but when he tries to move them, he finds that he cannot. He hears a less muffled voice say, "He's waking up, John."

Sam recognizes the voice as Bobby's and his eyes squint as a lightbulb from across the blurry room attacks his sensitive pupils. He groans when his vision finally clears, his hearing regained, and he sees that his dad, Bobby, and Dean, are all watching him with malice on their features. Memories assault Sam's mind and he bows his head in shame and frustration. How could he have been so stupid? How could he think he would actually be able to beat Lucifer? The Devil for crying out loud!

John glares at the monster possessing his youngest son and pulls a flask of holy water from his leather jacket pocket. He unscrews the cap and takes a step towards the demon.

"Who are you?" John finally asks, his voice low and dangerous. Sam looks up in alarm and furrows his brows at the question. Of course his family thinks he's possessed. They would never think Sam, innocent, book loving Sam, could be a monster. Sam jerks his head to the side to get some fallen brown hair out of his eyes and looks pleadingly at his father, "My name is Sam."

John sneers and splashes some holy water on the creature. It has no effect other then feel a tad uncomfortably warm on Sam's skin. John frowns and speedily blesses the water again before dunking some more of the substance on the thing's head. Again there is no effect. Dean tosses some salt on the demon wearing his little brother and waits for the screaming to begin. The room remains silent except for Sam's tired sigh.

"It's just me, guys." Sam stares down at the tight ropes binding him and tries to wiggle his fingers free, unsuccessfully. Dean shoots his father a panicked look, "I didn't see it smoke out!" he yells, clearly angry and confused. Bobby steps forward, past the baffled, older Winchesters. "Ok I'll bite," Bobby says, sarcasm thick in his voice, "Let's say you are Sam. What _the hell_ is going on?"

Dean feels a lump form in his throat as Sam's shaky reply fills his ears, "I didn't want any of this to happen," Sam mutters miserably, "I was just doing what I was told, what I had to do."

John can hear his heart beating in his ears as he answers the frightened boy's words, "You mean Damon? The demon from the alley?" Dean takes a step closer towards his brother, feeling both the urge to comfort him and run away at the same time. Sam laughs hoarsely but his face is devoid of any amusement. Instead a pained grimace contorts his face. Sam's chuckle dies off, the end of it sounding more like a strained sob.

"Damon? He doesn't have anything to do with this. He was just a mere hiccup in the plan. He means nothing." Sam's voice is filled with a fury that makes all of the other men in the room's skin crawl. "I'm going to be in a lot of trouble," Sam says, his words laced with raw fear. John grabs a silver knife from his waistband and presses the blade against Sam's throat.

"You _aren't_ my son." He bites out, his eyes blazing with rage. Dean yelps out, "Dad, stop!"

Bobby remains silent throughout the exchange, waiting for the creature to break and spill it's purpose for possessing Sam Winchester. Sam gulps, but otherwise remains unphased by the weapon cutting into the soft flesh of his throat.

"What. _are_. you?" John shouts into the thing's face. Sam meets his father's eyes, tears suddenly spilling down pink cheeks, "I really don't know anymore."

Horror settles on John's features and he backs away from what he now knows is his fifteen year old son, Sam. John could see in his eyes that he was telling the truth. John could see the pure terror and grief on Sam's face as clear as day when he looked into those hazel spheres. He sheaths his silver dagger and runs a hand over his face, finding it very difficult to breathe all of a sudden. Dean briefly meets his father's eyes and understands immediately what he just discovered. Dean had thought it was impossible for himself to feel more anxiety than just a few seconds ago, but when he looks back at his little brother, he is proved wrong.

"Sammy?" Dean asks fearfully. Sam meets his big brother's mortified gaze, "I'm so sorry, Dean. I know I should have told you. He wouldn't let me. I'm so sorry." Sam rambles nervously, hot tears dripping off his jaw and onto the ropes holding him down. John snaps back to reality at Sam's words, " _Who_ told you, Sam?" he asks angrily. Who did this to his son?

A shudder runs through Sam's body as he struggles to answer his father's question and everyone in the room seems to collectively hold their breath. Sam's previously shaking voice is now clear and laced with unhinged fury as he says the one name that will change everything, "Lucifer."

Everyone's blood turns to ice at the single name spoken by the brown haired boy. John frowns deeply, "L-Lucifer?" he asks carefully, "Like the Devil, Lucifer?" Dean watches Sam flinch at the name that falls from his father's lips. Sam nods after a beat and Bobby, John, and Dean, exchange worried glances. "Lucifer isn't real, Sam." John assures the tied up, clearly insane boy.

"How would you know? He's been following me for years!" Sam shouts suddenly, obviously pissed at the looks they are all giving him. Bobby clears his throat and says softly, "How long have you been seeing _Lucifer_ , Sam?"

Sam growls and shakes his head in disbelief, "Stop looking at me like I'm insane! I'm not insane, I'm telling the _truth_!"

Suddenly a loud crash is heard from outside and the smell of sulfur assaults everyone's noses. Bobby grabs a jug of holy water while John fills a sawed off shotgun with rocksalt. Dean begins untying Sam but stops at his father's voice, "Dean, leave him. He's safer inside the house for now. Whatever is out there can't come in because of the salt lines!" Dean hesitates but eventually steps away from his brother after they share a look of anxiety with each other. Bobby tosses Dean a shotgun loaded with rocksalt as well and they rush out of the front door, towards the smell and sound.

Standing there, under the orange afternoon sun, is a crowd of demons. Dean gives up counting after he reaches thirty and swears he can see his life flashing before his eyes. Bobby has never even heard of so many demons gathered on one place, his hands shaking as he tries to think of a strategy to gank them all. John looks hopelessly over at his eldest son and feels guilt squeeze at his heart, Dean is going to die because of him and his need for revenge. Mary would never forgive him.

A demon with blonde hair that reaches her waist speaks up finally, "We want the Boy King. He's become too strong, a menace to our kind. We know what happened in the warehouse with Damon and his followers." She pauses and bares her teeth, "We wont let the same thing happen to us." The other demons remain unmoving, their black eyes wide and deadly.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." John tries. The blonde demon scoffs and takes a step forwards, her pale, bony fingers curling into tight fists at her sides. "Just bring Samuel out and nobody needs to get hurt." She growls. Dean feels red-hot anger pulse through his veins and he yells, "No way in hell are we going to let you anywhere near, Sam!"

The blonde demon smiles darkly, "I was hoping you would say that."

Before she can take another steps towards them, Sam bursts out of the door. He immediately charges at the blonde demon and jumps on top of her, not hesitating as he bites into the skin of her neck. Her screams fill the air and another demon tries to tear Sam off of her. The other demon finds himself paralyzed by an unseen force and Dean, John, and Bobby watch in horror. Sam drains her body of blood quickly and presses his palm against her forehead once he breaks away. Her skin flashes with hellfire until it finally dies out, her eyes turn to normal, and she goes limp on the ground. Dead.

Sam wipes at the blood smeared around his mouth with the back of his hand and tilts his head in the direction of the paralyzed male demon, who spontaneously explodes. A spray of red mist coats everyone nearby and another demon beside Sam begins to try and smoke out of it's middle aged male vessel. Sam merely reaches up to the top of the smoke and pushes it back inside of the demon's body. His hands pushes against the demon's mouth and hellfire yet again flickers from under the demon's flesh until it dies out and collapses onto the ground.

All of this happened within ten seconds.

The other demons around Sam and the corpses, look at their future king with utter horror. No one speaks or even moves a muscle for several moments until Sam's clear voice pierces the air, "Anyone else?"

Dean feels his whole world shatter as he watches his baby brother, covered in blood, scare the living shit out of dozens of demons. John feels faint but doesn't loosen the grip he has on his shotgun.

A demon falls to it's knees suddenly and Sam watches, confused, as all of the other's follow. Clarity dawns upon the youngest of the Winchester boys as the demons place their hands flat on the ground and bow their heads in shame, fear, and newlyfound respect. "We apologize my lord," a shaking voice of one of the demons cries pitifully. Sam blinks a few times, not sure how to react. Finally he clears his throat and the demons look up at him, not quite meeting his eyes which are for sure pure white at this point.

"Leave, and don't ever come back," Sam says, his voice unwavering, "If I ever see _any_ of you again, I wont hesitate to kill you." The demons shudder in unison and smoke out of their vessels immediately, never wanting to have to look into the terrifying eyes of the Boy King ever again. Several thumps follow their leave as the vessels they used flop to the ground. Sam waits for some of the recently possessed humans to stir and wake up but instead all of them stare off at nothing. Flies immediately beginning to swarm around them. They are all dead.

Sam grimaces and backs away from the mountain of corpses. He feels a gun jab into his lower back suddenly and his breath catches in his throat. "Back into the house. Now." Bobby's stern voice says from behind him. Sam obeys and lets Bobby push him back into the house, not daring to look up at his family's faces. _They've seen everything._ _They will hate me. They do hate me._

Dean ties his younger brother back up with shaking hands. He briefly stops to pull up the sleeve of Sam's t-shirt to check on the wound from Damon's torture to find it completely healed. He frowns and feels his stomach twist inside of him. He ties him up with new rope, since the previous one seems to have turned to ash on the wooden floor. Sam's eyes follow John's pacing form with mild interest. His powers wanting to hurt, to destroy everything around him.

Suddenly Lucifer appears and Sam groans out loud. As if this situation couldn't have gotten any worse. Dean, John, and Bobby look at direction Sam is staring at and immediately pull their weapons on the tall blond boy. Sam gapes, "Y-You can _see_ him?" He practically shouts. John ignores Sam's question and grits out, "Great, more surprises. Now, _who the fuck are you_?"

The blond boy smirks and chuckles as if this situation is amusing to him, "I'm the monster inside of your little boy's head. But you can just call me Lucifer."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sympathy for the Devil**

 **Chapter Six**

 **victorious1314**

 **Warnings: See Chapter One**

 _AU: Hey, Guys. I'm really glad to be home so I can write more. Thanks sooo much for the kind reviews as always, they never cease to make me smile :) I put off writing a lot because I'm often not in the mood. It seems that whenever I am in the mood to write, I'm out somewhere that I can't write X_X Anyways I'm really excited to write more. P.S. There will be some_ _ **triggering content**_ _in this chapter._

Dean feels like he was just punched in the gut with an iron fist at the strange boy's words. What the hell is going on? Bobby rolls his eyes and clocks his gun that is still pointed at the blonde boy. John speaks before him though, his voice gruff and angry, "You're gonna tell us _exactly_ what is going on here or I'm gonna blow your brains out."

Lucifer laughs at the display of testosterone and takes a step towards the men, "Your salt guns aren't going to hurt me John," Lucifer flicks his hand to the right and Dean, John, and Bobby's salt loaded guns fly across the room. Bobby splashes some holy water on the creature and Lucifer growls in annoyance, "I'm not a demon. I'm an angel... a _fallen_ angel, but an angel nonetheless."

Dean, John, and Bobby gape at the acclaimed angel who then crosses the room quickly over to his vessel. Sam's head is hanging in fear and shame as the devil approaches.

"You've been a _very_ bad boy, Sammy," Lucifer scolds the boy before entangling his fingers in Sam's brown, shaggy hair and jerking his head up so he can look into his eyes.

"Get the fuck away from him you son of a bitch!" Dean yells and starts charging over to rip Lucifer away from his baby brother, but his dad and Bobby hold him back. He looks at them with rage and accusation in his eyes but Bobby simply shakes his head at him. Bobby doesn't know what to make of this situation, who is this bond boy? It's the same boy he saw Sam fighting earlier in the scrap yard. Could he truly be who he and Sam claim he is?

John feels white-hot anger pump through his veins when the fucker puts his hands on his youngest, but knows that the three hunters are no match for this monster, especially when they are unarmed. Sam grunts in pain but otherwise shows no reaction to Satan looking at him like a piece of meat. Lucifer glares back at Dean after his outburst and moves to Sam's side, his grip on his hair unrelenting.

"If it isn't the _great_ big brother, Dean! I've been wanting to talk to you for years!" Lucifer laughs bitterly at the teen. Dean's nostrils are flared, his fists tight, his back ridged, and his eyes wide, filled with fury.

"Step away from him you motherfucker." Dean says lowly, his voice clear and dangerous. Lucifer acts mockingly appalled at Dean's words and says, "Dean, I thought you were above name calling! After all, I've known you for so long."

Dean, Bobby, and John look at Lucifer in confusion. How the hell would Dean know the Devil? Lucifer smiles at their stupid expressions and explains himself as if talking to an idiot, "I've been with Sammy here since he was six years old! You just haven't been able to see me. Maybe if you paid more attention to him you'd have been able to tell something was wrong! But of course, you, John, you were always too focused on revenge and couldn't spare poor Sammy any of your attention!" Lucifer snorts and continues, "But _Dean_ , oh Dean. How could you, the protective big brother, miss out on the signs? How could you not notice how much your little brother was suffering?" Lucifer snarls, "How could you not have noticed how much of a _monster_ Sam has become?"

Dean feels hot tears run down his cheeks, the pain in his heart threatening to knock him down. Through all of this Dean forces himself to focus on getting the monster who has caused his baby brother so much pain's hands off of Sam. John's jaw clenches as he refuses to break eye contact with the blond asshole.

Lucifer sighs and buries his face in Sam's neck, inhaling deeply. He nuzzles his vessels jaw, not breaking eye contact with Dean as he feels up his brother. Dean feels bile rise in his throat, "Get your fucking hands off of him!" he yells.

Sam's eyes look off into the distance at nothing, a blank expression plastered onto his face. Lucifer sighs deeply, "Well this has been fun and all but there's been a change in plans! Sammy is gonna have to come with me now."

Dean takes a predatory step forwards, John and Bobby behind him, his breathing uneven from panic and anger, "You're not going _anywhere_ with, Sam. I'm going to fucking _gut_ you."

Lucifer's eyes widen and he busts out with laughter, "Y-You?" he laughs harder, " _You're_ gonna gut, _me_?" Lucifer runs a pale hand down Sam's chest to anger Dean farther. Dean's rage reaches unimaginable levels at the monster's movements.

Lucifer continues, laughter bubbling through his words, "Me? The fucking _Devil_? You, _Dean Winchester_ , are going to gut me?" His laughter falls short, "Because last time I checked you were a puny, worthless, human who can't even protect his own little broth-" Lucifer doesn't get to finish his words because Dean tackles him to the ground, a scream of rage tearing through his throat. Lucifer pushes Dean off of him, throwing him across the room and crashing into a pile of books. Bobby's grabbed his gun by then and fires a salt round into the thing's chest.

Lucifer rolls his eyes in annoyance and begins to lift his arm in the direction of Bobby but is stopped when Sam's fist hits him squarely in the jaw. Lucifer falls to the ground and glares up at his vessel with blood dribbling down his chin from his newly split bottom lip. Sam's eyes seem to glow white as black wisps of energy radiate from his body and disappear into the air around him. The sun is set outside and the sound of chirping crickets fills the now silent room.

Lucifer smiles, his teeth stained red, and says, "There's the Sammy I like, the one who'll fight me back. The Sammy who'll sta-" Lucifer is cut off once again by Sam's falling fist which crashes into his thin, lightly freckled nose. Blood pours from his left nostril and all amusement is wiped from his face. He growls and launches himself at Sam. The two boys begin punching, kicking, biting, and clawing at eachother. They roll onto the ground and all that is heard is grunts of pain and the soft thump of flesh pounding onto flesh.

Dean and John start towards the tumbling pair but are stopped by Bobby who shakes his head solemnly. A silent message conveyed that they should let the two stronger beings fight without getting involved. Dean looks at Bobby like he has grown a second head and starts heading towards the two teens again, wrenching his arm from his fathers grasp on his leather jacket. Dean is within five feet of him when he is suddenly thrown across the room, his head slamming against the white wall with a loud cracking noise. Sam looks at his older brother's fallen form in panic. Lucifer uses his vessels brief distraction as an opportunity to wrap his bruised, bloody hands around the other boy's throat. Sam begins scratching wildly at Lucifer's arms and kicking harshly at the older teen's body, trying to get him off. Sam gulps desperately for air and his eyes switch back to their normal hazel, his powers being drained by Lucifer during his struggle.

John and Bobby finally start running towards Sam and Lucifer, their familial instincts taking over once they see Sam is loosing the fight. Just as they are about to reach Sam and Lucifer, however, a flash of pure white fills the room. Bobby and John cover their eyes and groan. Lucifer's grip loosens and anxiety fills him as his eyes settle on his brother Michael who is occupying a vessel that can barely contain his power. Since Lucifer's powers are very limited as it is, he is able to use Nick's body without much problem.

"Brother?" Lucifer lets Sam go and rises to his feet to meet his older brother. Michael grimaces at the scene around him, "Lucifer this is not how this was meant to happen. You have meddled with things that were not meant to be meddled with." Michael's voice, stoic and steady, pierces through the heavy, dusty air of Bobby's study.

Dean slowly regains consciousness and watches the scene before him unfold. John and Bobby unshield their eyes and watch in terror as they realize Lucifer is most likely who he claimed to be. Sam rises from the ground and walks unsteadily towards the archangel Michael. He staggers before the man with short, dark brown hair, pale skin, and brown eyes. Michael's vessel wears a brown suit and loafers with a pair of unneeded black framed bifocals in his breast pocket. A golden watch gleams when the light hits it upon his wrist.

Sam struggles to get air into his lungs and wheezes painfully as he attempts to speak. Michael watches the human who is meant to become his younger brother's vessel with pity in his gaze. Sam finally manages to stutter out, "I-It's about g-goddamn t-time."

Michael's eyebrows shoot up before he frowns at the human boy, "How long has this been going on, Samuel?" He isn't truly concerned for the human boy, he is just extremely annoyed at the actions of his younger brother. Sam grits his teeth, trying to avoid doubling over in pain from his broken rib. Sam looks up at the archangel, "N-Nine years, I think?"

Lucifer rolls his eyes at the turn of events and speaks up, "I was merely trying to move things farther along brother."

Michael shoots Lucifer a look of unhinged fury, "No, you were going against Father's plan." Michael's voice is so loud and booming that a book is shaken off the edge of Bobby's desk and clatters onto the dusty, bloody floor. Lucifer holds his hands up in surrender and tries to reason with his elder brother, "Exactly, Father's plans. We don't have to fight, Michael. We can join together, as brothers, like we used to."

Michael takes a dangerous step towards Lucifer and everyone in the room collectively holds their breath in anticipation. Michael finally speaks, "You're right, Lucifer. We don't have to fight... And that is exactly why I will do everything in my power to prevent you from rising."

Lucifer feels like somebody just roundhouse kicked him in the chest.

"Y-You don't mean that, brother," Lucifer tries, "I'll leave the Winchester's alone. Hell, we can wipe their memories! We'll go off together and break the seals and I will return to heaven with you!"

Michael sneers at his groveling brother, "Lucifer, just stop. What you've done here is irreversible. Yet again, because of your poor judgment, I will cast you into hell. There is nothing you can do to sway my decision. You are simply making yourself look ridiculous and pitiful."

Lucifer gapes in horror at Michael's words until rage settles in the pit of his stomach. He growls, "I'm pitiful? Look at you, daddy's perfect solider! Did it ever occur to you that I did nothing wrong? That God simply wanted the Devil?" Michael scoffs, "You were Father's favorite, do not pin your stupidity and immaturity on him."

Dean watches the scene unfold before him with confusion. God, Angels, the Devil? Dean never considered that they could actually exist. Did any other hunters know about them? And what the hell does any this have to do with his baby brother?

John doesn't know what to think, could this actually be happening? Could the Devil and the archangel Michael truly be standing in front of him, bickering like children? John's eyes flutter over to his youngest who is watching the brothers shout back and forth with annoyance and what appears to be slight boredom etched into his features. John is beyond confused. Why would Lucifer, the Devil himself, torment his son for nine years?

Bobby's eyes switch between the archangel and Lucifer almost mechanically as his brain tries to process what is happening before him. Bobby supposes that since angels are probably the most written about creatures in the history of lore and mythology, it would make sense that they exist. But why would no hunter ever have encountered one before? And more importantly, what the fuck would they want with the Winchesters?

Sam feels like he's finally able to breathe after nine years of suffocation. He feels hatred towards Michael for not coming sooner and because of his role in Sam's destiny but he can't help the cool feeling of relief wrap around his heart. Sam wonders if Michael is bluffing. Would he really shove Lucifer back into the cage? Would he really stop the impending apocalypse and relieve Sam and Dean of their awful destinies?

Lucifer snarls in fury at his older brother and his eyes flicker to red, "I wont let you cast me down there again, Michael"

Michael raises one brow at the threat and the room is instantly filled with pure white light, yet again. Sam, Dean, John, and Bobby shield their eyes. When the light is gone and they look upon the room again, Lucifer and Michael are nowhere to be found. Sam collapses onto his knees from the pain in his ribs and Dean, pushing through the nauseas from his definite concussion, runs towards his brother.

Dean pulls Sam into his arms and grimaces as some of the dried blood around Sammy's mouth flakes onto his shirt. John and Bobby run towards the brothers and watch the exchange, not sure how to proceed. Dean feels Sam begin shaking in his arms and briefly wonders if he is cold but knows better when a strangled sob tears through his baby brother's throat. Sam winces in pain every time his body shudders with a sob but can't seem to stop. Dean pets Sam's hair gently and looks up at Bobby and John with confusion and pain on his face. John steers his eyes away from his oldest son's gaze, ashamed that he doesn't have a handle on this situation like he does with everything else. Bobby, though, smiles sadly down at Dean and reaches down to help him pick up the fifteen year old.

Sam yelps in his throat when pressure is put on his ribcage and finds himself drifting off into unconsciousness, the last thing he hears is the door slam and Impala's engine rumble to life from outside.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sympathy for the Devil**

 **Chapter Seven**

victorious1314

Warnings: See Chapter One

 _AU: Hello, Readers! I want to apologize to you all for my lack of updating on this story. I've been ridiculously busy trying to catch up with my schoolwork after being hospitalized in January. I've also been quite depressed and haven't had the energy to write. I'm very sorry about that. I'm really trying to push myself to write more. Anyways, for those of you who have stuck around, thank you. You are the reason I still find it in me to write 3_

Sam's hazel eyes slowly open to reveal a large fan directly above him. The night sky behind the loud, slow moving fan looms almost omnisciently over the teen boy. Sam tries to lift his arms but finds that they are restricted by leather cuffs. He experimentally tries to move his feet, only to found that they are bound as well.

"Sammy, it's okay," Dean's voice assures, "You're in Bobby's Panic Room."

Sam struggles to lift his head for a few moments but eventually succeeds. He looks towards the direction of Dean's voice to see his older brother looking through a hatch on a large metal door across the room. Sam's breathing begins to pick up as he observes his situation more. The walls are covered in sigils and he strapped to a bed in the center of a Devil's Trap. Four small lights around the circle room cast dark shadows on the ground and onto Sam's body. Even though the cool night air bites at his skin, Sam breaks out in a sweat, his heart thumping like he just ran a marathon. Memories of Lucifer and demons torturing him flash through his mind.

"It's not real." He assures himself under his breath as Lucifer slowly approaches him from the shadows with a carving knife. Lucifer's figure slowly dissipates after he says the words and he falls back onto the bed with an exhausted sigh.

"We're just going to keep you here until we know what's going on. Dad ran off after you passed out. Probably going to get a drink," Dean laughs humorlessly, "He always has the best timing, huh?"

Dean watches his brother's form struggle to breathe and fights to keep himself from running to his side. Bobby told him this was the safest place for him now. No demons can enter and Sam will have time to get all of that demon... Dean can't force himself to finish the thought. The thought of his baby brother drinking that- _stuff_... it makes him feel physically ill. _The flask_... How long has this been going on? How many flasks have there been? Right underneath his fucking nose the whole time! Dean grinds his teeth in frustration. Lucifer was right about one thing, Dean was a shitty big brother.

Bobby watches silent, fresh tears drip down Dean's face. He's too young to be dealing with this... Hell there isn't an appropriate age for this situation. Sam's wheezing gasps can be heard through the ajar hatch and something twists in Bobby's gut. John should be here. Why did that fucker leave in the first place? Bobby opens his cell for what feels like the hundredth time in the past two hours since John left. He punches in John's cell number and sur-fucking-prise, straight to voice mail. He grumbles under his breath and closes the phone a little more forcefully than necessary. Yet again somebody else is left to take care of John Winchester's poor kids because the bastard's got _'more important_ ' shit to do than be a goddamn father.

Several hours pass and Bobby has left Dean and Sam in the basement to search for lore in his study involving Lucifer. The Devil has been mentioned in just about every book on mythology ever written. But what they all saw earlier didn't have horns and a pitchfork. It appeared to be an average teen boy. Dean and Bobby agreed not to question Sam until John got back... the selfish bastard. Bobby flips an old, dusty page in a red velvet lined book that has to weigh forty pounds, at least. Images of a frightening creature with a goats head and legs are drawn throughout the book. None of this is making any sense to him. Why would the Devil take a liking to Sam Winchester? What was the plan that Michael and Lucifer were talking about? Bobby feels as if he is grasping at straws, trying to make sense of a senseless situation.

Downstairs, the lights begin to flicker above Sam. He knows this is a beginning symptom of withdrawal from demon blood. When Sam was around thirteen he tried to stop drinking it, he started violently hallucinating within six hours. In the end, he caved, not wanting to risk Dean or his Dad witnessing his breakdown. Sam lifts his head to look at the closed hatch with a menacing glare as if Dean could receive it. What is their plan? Where the hell is dad? Sam's body begins trembling and breaks out in a cold sweat, he must be approaching the sixth hour or so. He growls and throws his head back onto the damp pillow.

Dean cradles his head in his hands. Where the fuck is John? His brother is suffering and he can't do anything about it. Is this from the blood? He wants to give him time to get it out of his system, but what if he needs it? What if Sam needs the fucking demon blood to survive? Dean opens the hatch and grimaces as his brother arches his body, shakes, and whines from some invisible source of agony. Dean slams the hatch closed and paces back and forth in the dank basement. He can't stand this! Where the _fuck_ is John? Dean drives his fist into the stone wall, the pain from his split knuckles somewhat grounding him.

John slams his car door shut and struggles to walk upright towards Bobby's house. Bobby immediately charges out of the front door and storms up to John, his eyes wide and furious. "Where in the hell have you been you, idjit?" Bobby booms, "Do you have _any_ idea how much I want to shoot you right now?"

John lazily notices a shotgun gripped in Bobby's hands, that seem to be itching to fire it. "I needed some time alone, Bobby." John slurs. Dean bursts through the screen door, having heard the Impala's door close from the depths of the basement.

"Dad, are you kidding me?" Dean shouts, " _Where_ have you been? Me and Sam needed you and you just ran off!" Dean's bloody fist drips slowly onto the dark ground. The sound of crickets chirping seems to come at the trio from all directions of the salvage yard.

John pushes past the two and stomps up the steps of Bobby's porch. He flings open the squeaky door and throws himself onto the couch, running his calloused hands through his short, graying hair. Dean daringly grabs the collar of John's leather jacket and pulls him off of the couch. "You went and got drunk while you're son was hurt?" Dean spins around and pushes John backwards, sending him tumbling onto the floor with a grunt, "You asshole!"

John is up in an instant, despite his apparent intoxication. He pushes Dean back who knocks over a small pile of books, "Watch yourself, boy! My _son_ is a _monster_."

Dean is taken aback for several moments from the pure hatred in his father's voice whilst he spoke of his younger son. Dean straightens himself and fires back, "Don't you _dare_ talk about my brother like that," poison drips off of every word he speaks, " _You are a poor excuse for a father_."

John's face turns to stone at his eldest's accusation. Bobby watches from the door frame with mild satisfaction from Dean's honesty.

Suddenly, the night air is pierced by horrendous wails. John's heart begins to race, all of his thoughts of disgust for Sam, vanishing, and his mind becomes instantly clear and sobered. Dean is thundering down the basement stairs before he can even form any coherent thoughts. Bobby and John on his heels. Dean flings open the hatch and watches his little brother in horror.

Lucifer begins peeling the skin from Sam's chest, slowly and methodically. "Hmmm, I think I'm getting better at this." He muses cheerfully. Each strip of flesh makes a wet sound as it hits the concrete floor below them. Sam screams for all his life's worth. He strains against the leather cuffs that Lucifer strapped him in violently, the skin slowly chaffing away, layer by layer. "No! No, _please_! Stop, I'll do anything! _Gah_ -" Sam shrieks as Lucifer begins slicing away at the muscles after he has stripped off all of the skin. Blood pools around the bed and makes Sam's back stick to the previously white sheets. He briefly wonders how he isn't dead yet but all thoughts disappear as Lucifer begins carving at him again.

Sam screams like he's being butchered. Dean begins fumbling to open the door to snap his brother out of it but is stopped by Bobby pulling him roughly away from the steel door. "He could be faking it." Bobby tries to reason.

" _Faking it_? Why would he be faking it?" Dean cries. Standing in another room while his Sammy is in pain is going against his every instinct as a big brother. Bobby grips Dean by the shoulders to anchor him to the spot after the nineteen year old attempts to open the door again.

"He could be tricking you into opening the door, so he ca-" Bobby is cut short by John who unlocks the door with shaking hands. "John!" Bobby calls out, but both of the older Winchesters begin barreling into the room, towards Sam. John starts unlatching the leather straps on Sam's wrists while Dean holds Sam's face and begins shouting at his brother, trying to get him to open his eyes and _stop screaming_. Bobby sighs and rushes over to open the cuffs on Sam's ankles. Once all of the leather straps are undone, John joins Dean and tries to get Sam to snap out of whatever sickening trance he's in.

All of a sudden, Sam's eyes open. His screams stop immediately and everyone lets out a collective sigh of relief. Just as Dean opens his mouth to reassure Sam, Sam's eyes roll back into his head and his body tenses up. He begins foaming at the mouth but before John, Dean, or Bobby can respond, he shoots up into the air, hitting the metal screen that covers the giant metal fan.

"Oh my god," John breathes. "G-Get him down!" Dean hollers, "We have to get him down!"

Sam begins rolling on the ceiling, his body seems to be jerking in every direction. He keeps rolling and defying gravity until he reaches the top of a wall that's covered in sigils and his Dad yanks him down. John lays his son on the ground and finds his vision suddenly burred by tears. He pulls off his belt and ties Sam's arms against his chest. Bobby holds Sam's legs down to keep him from flying up onto the ceiling again.

Dean backs away slowly, his whole body trembling, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he sits down. How have they gotten to this? Just yesterday he was going to help Bobby fix up a pickup truck. Now he's watching his father and Bobby tie Sam down to prevent him from hurting himself during his demonic seizure. Finally, Sam falls limp onto the cold floor.

Sam's mind is blank, he can't feel anything at all. This is, perhaps, the first time in years he has slept without any interruptions from the Devil.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sympathy for the Devil**

 **Chapter Eight**

victorious1314

 **Warnings: See Chapter One**

 _ **AU:**_ _Hi, Everyone. I know I'm really awful at updating... but that's nothing new, I guess. Anyone who reads my little "author's notes" knows I struggle with depression and that makes it hard to get out of bed, let alone write. I love writing, though, which makes this extra sucky... Anyways, I want to thank you all again for your kind reviews. They always make me so happy and I would be lying if I said my heart didn't leap every time I saw the little number go up, hahaha. Also, it would mean a lot if you would check out my new Supernatural fanfiction, "Chaos." It's a time travel fanfic and if you enjoy this story, you'll probably like that one :) So, that's enough delay. I hope you enjoy Chapter Eight._

John's sleeping on the couch, his brows furrowed in a seemingly permanent frown. Dean and Bobby sit on opposite sides of the kitchen table, both of them nursing their beers in tense silence. Dean's emotions are all over the place, his fear reaching an all time high after his brother's supernatural seizure. Every time he closes his eyes he can see Sammy pressed flat against the ceiling, his libs jerking, out of control, and contorted. He wants to know what the fuck is going on, but he's also terrified of the answer. More than anything, though, Dean wants to beat the shit out of that kid named Lucifer.

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Sam finally wakes, his body feeling sore and tired. The sun shines brightly down onto him through the gaping hole in the ceiling. Birds chirp merrily from outside, blind to the fact that a monster is within their midst, just inside the panic room. He groans and moves to rub his eyes but discovers that his hands are once again strapped to the bed. Adrenaline courses through him as he searches the room with bleary eyes for Luce. After finding the room to be empty, Sam realizes that the torture could have very well been a hallucination. He throws his head back onto the lumpy pillow in frustration. How is he going to be able to tell what's real and what isn't? Sam briefly wonders where Dean is, but accepts that his brother is most likely mortified and doesn't want to be anywhere near him.

"Sam, love," a soft woman's voice chimes. Sam yelps in surprise as his eyes settle on a blonde woman in a white nightgown. It takes him a few moments but he recognizes her from the visions and dream's Lucifer has given him over the past nine years. "Mom?" Sam's scratchy voice pierces the morning air. Blood seeps through his mother's sleepwear from a slash on her stomach, though she seems utterly unaffected by the pain. Mary sits down on the small bed and runs her pale, slender fingers through Sam's tangled hair, "Yes," she replies, "I'm here."

"You aren't real," Sam grunts, though he leans into her soft touch. Mary smiles, "That's unimportant. What matters is that we're together and I'm going to help you."

Sam frowns, "How are _you_ going to help me?"

Mary strokes the side of Sam's face lovingly, "I'm going to remind you of what's important," Sam opens his mouth to speak but Mary cuts him off, "You have to fulfill your destiny, dear."

Sam feels like he was just slapped in the face, "W-What?"

Sam's hallucination of Mary replies, "You're confused, why? Are you surprised that I would want you to do as god intended?" Sam feels tears beginning to form, "I thought you would want what was _best_ for me."

Mary touches Sam's hand in a comforting gesture, "I made a deal, Sam. I traded your life for your father's. Do you honestly believe that I ever cared for you at all?"

.

Dean tosses his empty bottle in the trash, "I'm going to go check on him," he mutters, not even bothering to look at Bobby who nods sadly. Dean stomps down the stairs, going to check on his baby brother for the tenth time since Sammy's seizure. Dean open's the slot on the door and peers in. To his surprise, Sam is awake. Panic forms in his stomach, however, when he notices that his brother is sobbing.

Sam always knew that nobody truly loved him, Lucifer made sure of that. But, thinking it and hearing it are two very different things. Even Dean doesn't even really like Sam. Dean was forced, by their father, to take care of Sam after their mother died. Dean may think that he loves Sam, but that's only because it was ingrained into his mind by John at such a young age. Sam is a burden, he knows that for sure. Perhaps the only way he'll ever really matter is if he does as he's told and says yes to Lucifer.

Sam doesn't realize he's sobbing loudly until he hears the latch on the door open and sees Dean step in. Sam searches wildly for any traces of his mother but finds none.

Dean steps towards Sammy nervously, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He shouldn't be scared of his brother, but now all he can think of when he looks at him is the blood dripping down Sam's chin after he slaughtered those demons. Sam's sobs are now reduced to small hiccups and he flinches when Dean sits down where their mother had just been moments ago. Dean wipes away the tears on Sam's cheeks and chin with shaking hands.

The cuts on Dean's knuckles are scabbed over by now, but they are surrounded by purple bruises. Dean opens his mouth to speak, but Sam beats him to it, "I'm sorry," Sam says, his voice tearful and quiet. Dean sighs and places his head in his hands, "What's happening Sammy?"

Sam lets out a nervous, airy laugh, "It's a long story." Dean looks at him through the corners of his eyes, "Lucky for you, we have a lot of time." Sam looks away from his brother's piercing gaze, "Well, if I'm going to tell you everything, I'm only going to tell it once. Dad should be here too."

The giant fan, lazily spinning above them, is the only sound for several moments until Dean says, "Alright," his voice is tight and scared seeming, but he continues, "I'll go get him." Dean stands up and heads towards the door before stopping in his tracks. He turns his head slightly to the left instead of turning towards his brother before he adds, "No matter what happens, I'm _not_ leaving you." He doesn't wait for Sam to reply before leaving the room, the door locking with an echo that bounces around the room behind him.

Sam tries to compose himself, he blinks the remaining tears from his eyes and does his best to sit up with the restraints holding his wrists down.

He suddenly feels goose bumps prickle his skin. An abnormal chill runs down his spine and he instantly knows who has joined him. Lucifer is at the edge of the bed, his clothes torn, his face bruised and bloodied, while his features are contorted in a mixture of pain and amusement. Before Sam can utter any words, they are in a new, dark, cold place.

Sam is strewn onto the unforgivingly hard stone floor, his weak body in shock and unable to do much else other than look at the devil in horror. Lucifer chuckles, "Believe it or not, even after your little _charade_ , I managed to come back out on top."

Sam struggles to breathe, "H-How?" Lucifer stalks over to him, his twisted grin that seems too wide and evil to be remotely human, everpresent. Lucifer grabs the collar of his little vessel's shirt, his eyes a blood red, and he pulls him up to his level. Dark circles frame Lucifer's crimson eyes and he suddenly seems to have grown several shades paler. Light blue veins can be faintly seen through his nearly translucent flesh, pumping his vessel's ice cold blood to it's harshly beating heart.

"How?" Lucifer repeats, his voice distorted, his chilly breath hitting, and numbing Sam's warm cheeks. " **I'm. the. Devil**." Lucifer then throws the boy across the room, which sends him barreling into the wall. A loud 'crack' resounds from his pubescent frame. Sam's groan is mixed with a choked sob, that is muffled by the blood pouring from his mouth. Lucifer begins to walk back over to his victim, and continues his answer, "After you sicked my big bro on me, which was a low blow, I might add," Lucifer swiftly kicks Sam in his already broken ribs for emphasis, "I got in a little fight with him."

Lucifer picks the youngest Winchester up by his hair and drags him over to a table in the center of the room, " _However_ ," He slams Sam's body down onto the table and begins fastening the boy down with leather straps, "I was able to convince him that what we have goin' on here," He conjures a knife out of thin air, "is a good idea." Lucifer slices away Sam's filthy, hand-me-down band t-shirt with the razor sharp blade.

"Hell, I actually got him on board with this!" He leans in close next to Sam's ear, "All I had to do was convince him of what a worthless piece of shit you are, and then he pissed off." Lucifer begins kissing Sam's neck passionately whilst his other hand begins slicing through the flesh under the teenager's left collarbone. "And now," Lucifer adds sweetly, "I have you all to myself."

Sam's screams echo throughout the windowless room as he is tortured, falling upon no one, as he is once again, completely alone.

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.

Dean opens the door of the basement and heads towards Bobby, who is now flipping through an old, leatherback bible. "Bobby," Dean starts, and Bobby's gaze flickers towards him in acknowledgement. John appears around the corner, his hand rubbing his neck absentmindedly. An equally tethered book on Christianity in his hands. Dean continues, "Sam said tha-"

There is a loud crash from down in the basement that cuts the eldest sibling off. "What in the hell is it now?" Bobby mutters, exasperated as all three of them bolt towards the basement. John tries to open the door but finds it has been somehow sealed shut. He yells in frustration and backs up to kick it down. His foot hits it squarely but has no effect other then propelling him backwards. Dean tries next, but his attempt ends the same.

"What the fuck are your doors made out of Bobby?" John yells as Dean tries to bust the door open for the third time. Bobby shouts back, as panicked as them, "It's _goddamn wood_ , as far as I know!"

Dean's heart is beating in his ears at this point, his breath ragged. He suddenly gets an idea. He sprints away from the older men, who continue to slam against the basement door to no avail. Dean rips open the door to the garage where Bobby and him had worked on an old car just the day prior. He begins towards a crowbar on the cement ground but something on the wall catches his eye. He turns towards a giant, metal chainsaw hanging on a hook next to an old box of tools. Dean snatches the thing and bolts towards the basement door.

Dean pulls the cord connected to the engine, whist holding the machine to the ground with his left foot. It makes a weak sputtering noise and quiets immediately. Dean prays that it's full of gasoline. Dean yanks back again on the cord and it finally revs to life. The grumbling of the chainsaw is so loud it makes a lump form in Dean's throat, as he's never used one of these before. John and Bobby jump out of the way as Dean attempts to shove the spinning blade through the wood. Instead of lf gliding in smoothly, the rusty chain stalls upon the pressure.

Dean yells and Bobby snags the shitty piece of machinery from his hands. Bobby holds the heavy thing above his head and Dean instinctively takes a step back as he slams the thing down onto the basement doorknob. The old thing snaps off, along with a piece of the lock from the inside due to the softness of the rotting wood. Dean backs up some more and rams the door open with his left shoulder. He barely catches himself from falling down the dark basement stairs on the rickety railing.

Another bang is heard from the panic room and the three need no more encouragement to send them rushing down the stairs and to the door. Bobby unlocks the door without even thinking this time and the three spill into the room. The sight that greets them stops them in their tracks.

The bed that had Sam strapped to it is overturned and across the room, steaks of blood in it's wake. There are scratches that seem to be from human nails through all of the warding on the walls, ceiling, and floor. The above lights are flickering like when there is a poltergeist near. The view that truly makes their blood run ice cold, however, are the words " **HE IS MINE** ," spelt out in blood on the floor. They observe the chaos in silence for several moments. Enough time for Dean to notice the absolute absence of sound in the room. His eyes dart up to the ceiling, where the large fan now sits completely, eerily still.

John observes the scene, his heart pounding in his ears. Where is his son and how are they going to get him back? Bobby is the first one of the three to move. He steps towards the message on the floor, his face and throat tight with emotion. If this is Sam's blood, there is no way he survived the massive loss of the fluid. However, considering the recent inhuman traits that they have observed from the fifteen year old, perhaps he is still breathing somewhere.

"Dad?" Dean says, his voice small and scared, almost childish, "What are we going to do now?" It takes a bit for the words to register in John's brain, "I don't-" John starts, his voice flat. He takes a moment and closes his eyes. The oldest Winchester inhales deeply through his nose before opening his eyes again and continuing, "We're going to find out what happened here and _we're going to get Sammy back_."

While the three begin their investigation of the scene, Sam's screams continue to fall upon deaf ears, as what's left of his sanity slowly slips away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sympathy for the Devil**

 **Chapter Nine**

 _victorious1314_

 **Warnings: This chapter contains rape and intense violence. For full warnings, see Chapter One.**

 _AN: Okay, so I didn't write all summer because my depression got pretty bad again. I've actually been doing alot better lately. I've only missed 3 days of school so far, which is like a record for me, and I'm taking a really cool creative writing class. I know I shouldn't use this as a diary because you guys aren't here to hear about me life. So, here you go :) Please remember to leave a review, I really do love hearing from you guys. Shoutout to the user Alix, who left one of the nicest reviews I have ever read._

"I didn't mean to upset you Sammy," Lucifer practically purs into his vessel's ear as he screams at the top of his lungs. His freezing cold fist is wrapped around Sam's softly beating heart as he whispers, "Your pain is exquisite." Sam can't even beg for death, he can only gasp for air and cry as Lucifer uses his power to keep him alive.

"I want to show you a new trick I learned," Luce mumbles before squeezing Sam's heart so hard that his black nails pierce the vital organ, "can you feel it?" he continues. Sam's wrists and ankles are raw and bleeding from him struggling against the straps that hold him. His back is arched and cramped from the complete agony he is enduring. If he could think clearly, he'd laugh at the memory of the first time he was tortured at the hands of those demons. That was nothing compared to this hell.

"You see, Sammy," Lucifer drawls and grabs Sam's pale, sweaty chin with his bloodied hand, " _Look_ at me when I'm talking to you," he demands before continuing his domineering speech, "I don't think you want me to stop."

Sam's eyes roll in his head for a few seconds, he's just able to process the devil's words as blood trickles out of the side of his parted lips. A low gurgling sound emanates from his throat in protest of Lucifer's claim. Satan persists, "This is your evolution, my darling... You are becoming what we all do in the end." Lucifer begins trailing his crimson stained hands down Sammy's rapidly healing chest. His clawed hand passes Sam's hips and the teen begins to cry even harder than before.

"I have to destroy you, love," he mockingly attempts to soothe the boy as he gropes him, "You must become wholly mine, and mine only. Sam, look upon the hell of my visage." Sam's eyes open slightly, tears continuing to steadily stream down his cheeks. Lucifer stands, hunched over the boy's form. The vessel he is in appears to be falling apart at the seams. "My face is broken, I need yours, Samuel," Luce mumbles, "Despite my crimes against nature, I am above all else, a gentleman. So, I will apologize in advance for the destruction I am, and will be, wrecking upon your psyche."

The devil wordlessly yanks off Sam's jeans and flips him over. For the first time since the torture began, the room is completely silent for several moments. However, immediately after the sound of Lucifer's fly coming undone reaches Sammy's ears, his wailing fills the dark and still room again.

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"It's been almost 24 hours Dad, and we don't even have a lead on where that bastard took Sam yet!" Dean shouts angrily, his fingers tangled in his short hair, pulling harshly at the roots. John glares at his eldest son over the ancient spell book he's reading, "I don't see _you_ helping," he retorts.

"Will you two quit your yappin'?" Bobby adds, "Besides, I think I found something." Bobby adjusts his glasses and shows the two other men in the room the page in the book he was searching for clues in. "Says here we can use one of Sam's things to find out where he is. All we got to do is a little spell and it should show us his exact location." He whips out a pen and jots some words down on the back of a scrap of paper before handing it to Dean.

"Here, this'll keep you busy. There's a list of ingredients I'll need for the spell to work. Go to the Walmart downtown and get out of your father and I's hair for a while." Wordlessly, John tosses Dean the keys to the Impala and flips a single dusty page of his old leather bound book. Dean looks like he's about to protest but stops himself at a moments notice and grumbles something under his breath before leaving.

The sound of the Impala's engine rumbling fills Bobby and John's ears for several moments before it fades off into the distance. "If we-," John starts, "When we find him... What then?"

Bobby looks up at his friend, and a distant look settles onto his face, "I _suppose_ you should figure out what in the hell is goin' on."

John frowns, "No, I mean... What do I do with Sam?" The oldest Winchester sets his book aside and rests his face in his callused hands, "He's not human, Bobby."

Bobby sighs deeply, "I guess you'll have to figure out if you have it in you to kill your own son."

"Jesus, Bobby!" John scowls in disgust at his companion's bluntness. John takes a moment to collect himself, "Lord knows, even if I could, Dean would never let me within a mile of him if he knew I was even considering it."

Bobby lets his book fall onto his lap with a soft, 'thud'. He adjusts his beaten up baseball cap, "John, I can't tell you what the right thing to do here is. All I can tell you be that Sam's still your son, and if you decide that that just isn't enough, you should be prepared to deal with the repercussions and lose both of your sons in the process." John rubs his temples roughly, trying to think clearly through his screaming thoughts, "I just want to know he's safe, Bobby," Bobby grumbles and stands up, causing his book to topple onto the wooden floor, "Well, then we should get started," he says before kicking the fallen thing out of his way.

"What are you talking about?" John asks as his brow furrows in confusion. Bobby leaves the question unanswered and opens his broom closet before returning seconds later with a basket of herbs and ingredients, "I have a spell that'll give us an idea where your boy is," he mumbles, trying to maintain his grip on the objects he's holding. Bobby places the goods on the floor in the center of the room and complains about his back under his breath.

"Why'd you make Dean go shopping then?" John asks his friend nervously.

"Because he won't be able to handle this if things go wrong," Bobby sighs, "This spell won't tell us where Sam is or bring us to him, but it will let us see him and his immediate surroundings for as long as we want."

John places his hand over his mouth and mumbles into his cupped palm, "Jesus Christ, you mean if Sam is _dead_?"

"Not really... we wouldn't be able to tell if he was dead or just sleeping. We would just see complete darkness," Bobby picks up several specific ingredients from the floor and grabs a black, steel bowl from inside his closet, "I was more concerned that we would see something along the lines of torture and Dean would go berserk," his voice becomes strained while saying the last part. John, who had previously been walking towards Bobby to help, stops in his tracks.

"Wh... Why do you say that?" John gasps, his mind spinning. Bobby stops mixing the ingredients in the bowl and looks up at John, "If Lucifer himself has him, do you really think there playin' patty cake?"

John blinks a few times, a chill rushing through his veins. Singer's face softens in sympathy, "I just need you to be prepared for anything. If your emotions become uncontrollable, the spell will cut us off," he continues after a beat, "we'll be right back where we started." He begins to grind a chicken's wishbone into a fine powder, "The spell requires two people for it to work, and we just need enough time to survey the surrounding area where Sam is being held," Bobby pours the white substance into the bowl and adds, "This is a hit or miss for us."

John nods determinedly*, a wave of courage burying his anxiety and adrenaline pumping through his veins, "What do we have to do?" he asks, his voice deep and sure. Bobby pours a mixture of water and pure salt into the now oatmeal seeming like mixture, "Eat some." He takes two spoons and scoops up about a quarter amount of it and hands it to the concerned father. John grimaces and holds up the utensil, "Cheers," he groans before bringing the foul smelling paste to his mouth, however, Bobby grabs his wrist before it reaches its destination.

"Are you sure you can do this?" he questions, his forehead scrunched up in worry. John smiles sadly, "C'mon, we have to do this before Dean gets back."

Bobby mumbles something under his breath but places the spoon into his mouth nonetheless. John follows suit and forces the putrid sour tasting stuff down his throat.

John opens his mouth, "I don't feel anything... Are we supposed to wait or wha-" John is cut off by Bobby falling onto the floor, his spoon clattering after him.

"Jesus Chri-" John's speech is halted once more than he feels his legs give out from under him, but his vision turns to black before he hits the ground.

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John's first conscious moments feel exactly like waking up to a wicked hangover. His vision sways as he forces himself into a sitting position. His ears are filled with an annoying buzzing sound, and something different in the distance that he can't quite place. He rubs his eyes and squints at a dark figure across the room from him. However, every time he tries to focus his eyes, his vision fades out. The buzzing has now turned into ringing and the strange noise... into crying.

"Don't look, John!" somebody shouts. Their voice is heavy with poorly masked fear and desperation. The dark figure rushes towards John and turns him so his back is facing the source of the noise.

"Wha-" John mumbles, his vision finally clearing. He finds himself looking at a stone wall, "What's happening?"

"Just give me a minute to look around!" Bobby's voice shouts over the screams. John looks towards him to find the fellow hunter with tears on his cheeks, surveying the room with rolling, horrified eyes. "No! Stop, John!" Bobby tries as John pulls himself from his grasp.

"Singer, _get off_ -" John yells before his mouth runs dry. His eyes widen in terror at the sight before him. His soul suddenly feels like it's been untimely ripped from his body and he's watching the events unfold from an outsiders' perspective. His thoughts become scrambled and detached. He begins thinking of the horrors he's witnessed throughout his life; in Vietnam, his wife's death, the violence of hunting. John decides, during those few seconds that seemed to last for an eternity, that he would rather infinitely relive each and every trauma, than have this image remain in his brain for a moment longer.

The screams of his son echo in his ears and make his blood churn. His stomach begins to lurch and he feels weak in the knees. He briefly wonders if this is what dying feels like. The disgust, the grief, and the absolute shame is enough to make him want to jump off a bridge. As his son is brutalized he is left to stand there in complete shock, unable to even breathe. The monster's hand is pushing Sam's head onto the table, coincidentally forcing Sam's gaze directly at his invisible form. Sam's eyes seem dazed and distant, almost foggy, as they look right through John. Suddenly, the glassy hazel orbs twitch and move towards his father's face, just before they begin to fill with more tears.

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"Jesus _fucking_ Christ, how hard is it to find the _fucking_ seasoning aisle?" Dean mutters, his fists gripped at his sides. He finally caves and asks an employee for help and finds what he needs.

About ten minutes later, Dean pulls back into the scrap yard. He wastes no time in rushing up to the house, ready to find his brother. The sound of his father yelling, however, makes him ditch the bag of herbs on the porch and bolt into the study. John's fist is bleeding from having punched a hole through the wall, much like Dean's yesterday.

"Calm down, John!" Bobby tries. "You're asking me to calm down after what I just saw?" John screams, his whole body vibrating with fury.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean yells over the shouting men. Bobby casts an apologetic glance towards the older brother, but John doesn't bother. He instead proceeds to promptly vomit into the dustbin.

" _Christ_ , John!" Bobby mutters, his tears never ceasing. "What the fuck is happening?" Dean demands, his palm covering his own mouth at the sight of bile.

"My son," John cries into his calloused hands.

"The room was empty, John. I couldn't find anything," Bobby says, still in shock. He takes his cap off and crushes it against his chest, trying to steady his breathing as he is on the verge of hyperventilating. Dean searches the room wildly until his green eyes settle upon a paste like mixture of herbs, "You cast the spell without me?" he accuses, his scabbed fists balled tightly. "We have to find him, Bobby. We have to." John says, his voice strained and broken by sobs.

A bright light explodes in the center of the room and sears their retinas. "Holy shit," Dean exclaims as he pulls out his gun while simutainiously attempting to cover his eyes. A man with slicked back brown hair and deep brown eyes suddenly takes shape as the brightness dissipates.

"Who the hell are you?" John questions, his gun out as well.

The man puts his hands up mockingly, "Oh, come on boys. I come in peace," the young man's lips curl upwards in amusement, "Name's Gabriel, as in the archangel. Maybe you've heard of me," he picks up a bible from Bobby's desk, "Not that anybody _really_ reads this old thing anyways."

Dean pulls the hammer back on his pistol, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't load you full of bullets right now," he growls between his teeth.

Gabriel rolls his eyes, "Because it won't do shit, honey," he motions towards himself dramatically, "Hello, literal holy warrior of the lord here."

"Lucifer took-" Bobby starts before he's cut off by Gabriel, "I know Lucy has Sam," he assures, "I'm here because I want to help you get him back."

Dean lowers his gun slowly, "How do we know we can trust you?"

Gabriel laughs humorlessly, "You don't."

"Well, where is he?" John demands, his face still slightly red from his miniature breakdown. Gabriel shakes his head, "Big brother has put up warding all around wherever he's keeping him, but with enough team effort, we should be able to break them."

"Why are you helping us?" Bobby squints at the acclaimed archangel. Gabriel's smile falters for the first time since his arrival, "Look, I love my family and all, but they tend to get too political about things. I haven't seen my brothers for a long time, but news has traveled fast that this showdown was arriving ahead of schedule." Gabe placed the bible down and pulls a cigarette from his jacket pocket, "While they're all content with debating on what to do and what would make dad the happiest on top of their little clouds," he lights it, "I'm not going to stand around while a kid is tortured. I mean, I felt bad enough at the prospect of you two going through this as adults, I'm not a monster."

"I'd beg to differ," Dean snarls, "What are you getting out of this?"

Gabriel takes a long drag of his cigarette and shrugs, "I just want everyone to get along."

"Whatever, what do we gotta do to save the boy?" Bobby cuts in as he fits his cap back onto his head. The archangel flicks his ash onto the floor, "Give me access to your spell ingredients and weapons."

Dean frowns, "Are we planning a battle here?"

"Are you okay with getting your hands dirty?" Gabriel responds, his eyes encapsulated with a twinge of madness. Dean nods determinedely, danger emanating from his aura.

Gabe pulls a long silver blade from his inseam pocket, "This is a blade that all Angels have with them. With it, you can kill any angel or demon," he hands it to John, his smile never fading. John looks at the dagger in surprise, "Why would you give this to me?" he asks confusedly.

The angel snorts, "So you have a sense of control. What do you want me to sa-" John interjects, "Nevermind, just help me find my son."

"That's the plan," Gabriel quips.

.

.

.

Sam's flesh mends itself back into its original shape, he groans in agony as Lucifer does nothing but watch the horrifying process.

"Sammy boy," the devil starts as he begins to unbuckle his victims binds, "I'm going to be out of town for a while, so to speak." he grabs his vessel by the jaw, "And I need someone to hold the fort down." Lucifer wraps his pale spidery fingers around the teen's throat and begins to squeeze, "In other words, I'm going to be taking over heaven's army and I need you to watch over hell while I'm gone."

"Gah-" Sam tries to speak but the words are choked right out of him. "Alistair will be your mentor for the time being," Lucifer licks Sam's tears from his cheeks, "And he'll teach you the way things are run around here," he starts to lean his body weight into the adolescent's windpipe, "I'm also giving him the keys to this room. So if you misbehave," Lucifer removes his hands and Sammy desperately gasps for oxygen, "he has permission to _punish_ you."

Lucifer grabs Sam by his bare shoulders and forces him into a sitting position on the cold, unforgiving table. He conjurs up a pair of plain wool pajamas and wordlessly puts his vessel into the clothing, limb by limb. The devil smooths the catatonic, shaking boy's hair down and whispers, "You know I'll always love you, right?" He crouches down to Sam's level, "I wish you didn't make me do these things to you."

Tears form in Sam Winchester's eyes but he seems otherwise unaffected by the words. "All we have is each other now, baby" Lucifer whimpers, leaning into Sam for emphasis. Sam twitches slightly at the contact, his eyes empty and seemingly dead.

"Anyways," Luce says, "I'm off to war, my pet."

A girl with short blonde hair and a crimson robe emerges from the shadows and picks up the teen with ease.

"This is Meg, she'll take care of you for now." Lucifer smiles and turns to the demon, "Tend to him well," he orders. The woman nods, her mouth pursed into a tight line and her black eyes fearfully downcast. Lucifer wordlessly disappears through a door he conjured up and Sam is left alone with the strange demon.

"Can you stand, my lord?" Her feminine voice queries. Sam's trembling body jerks towards the source of the noise before he shrugs his shoulders weakly. The pale skin on his bones seems almost stretched and unnatural, like he hasn't eaten a decent meal in weeks. Sam briefly wonders how long he's been in this torture cell. It must have been at least a few weeks. Since there was no windows, Sam could not witness the days passing, however, he can roughly estimate how long it has been through his increasing hunger.

The demon called 'Meg' grabs Sam's frail body off of the stone table and carries him through the doors. Sam begins hyperventilating from the sensation of being grabbed and tries to pull away from his new captor. She scoffs and adjusts her grip on the teen, "You sure are jumpy for, 'The Boy King of Hell.'" She says that last part in a mockingly deep voice.

They continue walking through what appears to be a large system of tunnels. Sam's mind spins with ideas of that they could be leading up to. Perhaps it's a bigger torture chamber? Or maybe it's hell itself. That idea in particular sends him into a panic. His thin, fragile legs manage to kick out and throw Meg off balance a bit, but this only causes her to hold onto him more tightly than before.

"Can you knock it off?" She growls, her nostrils flaring in anger. Sam whimpers and continues to wiggle in her arms, desperate to be set free. Meg yells out in frustration and throws his weakened body onto the dirty stone floor.

" _Stand up_ ," She barks, her entire demeanor radiating rage. Sam struggles for a few moments, unable to get his limbs to comply. Meg swiftly kicks him in the side, not hard enough to break anything, but still enough to knock him flat onto his back. She grabs the collar on his pajamas and drags him towards a small wooden door at the end of one of the tunnels. Sam whimpers and continues to try to twist away from her grasp. Meg kicks the weak door open and pulls the struggling teen into a large, white room. The light blinds Sam momentarily and he mistakes the brightness as hellfire. He begins to cry pitifully as he's picked up once more and dropped into a cool marble bath. Sam squirms as Meg rips the pajamas from his emaciated form.

His eyes begin to adjust and he watches as she twists a metal knob above the faucet. Cold water splashes against Sam's legs and he gasps at the contact. For the first time, Sam begins to survey his surroundings. He sits in a lone tub in the middle of the most extravagant bathroom he has ever seen. High arched ceilings with murals of angels tower over him and clean marble floors reflect the light of a crystal chandelier that hangs above. The simple brown door that had been kicked in, stands innapropriatley among st such finery. The water, now warm, begins to fill the tub. Meg watches his quivering form with a piercing, yet seemingly uninterested gaze. Sam flinches and averts his eyes.

Meg grabs a bar of soap from the floor and immediately starts scrubbing at the dried blood and grime on his pale flesh. Tears begin to form at his eyes, once again and he tucks his chin into his chest in embarrassment. His thoughts begin to wander towards his brother. What would he think of him, now? He's a monster, but he is also weak and slow. The amount of times he has been victimized is surely shameful. He can already see the look of utter disappointment that would form on his father's face if he could see his son now. Having the dirt and washed from him like a child.

Sam grits his teeth as Meg reaches his more sensitive parts. He scans her face only to read a clear look of determination settled upon her features. He nearly sighs in relief knowing he is not going to be assaulted once more. The previously clear water is now tinged with gray. Flecks of dried blood and dirt float noticeably in the liquid, keeping Sam in a sort of trance as he watched them swim. Meg seems to notice this as well as she grunts in disgust and unplugs the tub, only to fill it up again with clean water.

As she finishes rinsing the last of the suds from the Boy King's hair, she stands up once more, pulling him with her. Sam stands on wobbling legs like a newborn colt before he is wrapped tightly in a soft towel. He's then led through another set of doors, this time they are tall and made with what appears to be mahogany. The next room is even more stunning than the last. There is another mural on the ceiling, this one depicting what appeared to be the crucifixion of Christ. The wounded eyes of the martyr bore into Sam's, causing the teen to force his gaze away. A large bed with red drapes hovering above is placed in the center of the room.

Meg leads Sam towards the bed and wordlessly sit him down. She proceeds to ignite a fire in a large fireplace across the room. The thought of trying to escape enters Sam's mind as her back is turned to him. He searches the room with wide eyes before finding another set of elegant doors a few yards away from where he is seated. The image of him running through the doors into another, unknown room enters his mind. The realization that he has absolutely no idea where he is suddenly plagues his thoughts. He could run into a room full of demons who are much less inclined to care for him. He remembers he is completely naked and blushes at the thought.

Meg brings a black robe over to the bed and sets it beside the fifteen year old.

"Get dressed," She barks, her mean gaze unrelenting. Sam blinks a few times before standing and hesitantly shrugging off the giant towel. He puts on the robe and pulls the thick hood over his head with shaking hands. He pushes a few strands of his damp hair from his eyes and Meg pushes him back down to the bed. As his weak frame crumples onto the black velvet blankets, he gasps, his eyes rolling around, trying to summon enough strength to sit back up.

Eventually Meg sighs and pulls Sam back up into a sitting position. "That's it," She mumbles as she pulls out a knife. Sam makes a sound similar to a hurt puppy and jerks away. Meg simply scoffs and promptly cuts open her own wrist. "Drink up, my Lord," She laughs.

Sam instinctively leans forward as the copper smell reaches his nostrils. Without any further prompting he latches onto her wrist like a man dying of thirst. He can feel the hot liquid dripping down his chin and neck, but he cannot seem to bring himself to give a fuck. After several minutes of drinking from the demon's open wound, he looks up to see that her eyes are hooded as if she is about to fall asleep. He reluctantly pulls away, not wanting to kill the only being who has shown him any compassion in weeks. Meg gasps and pulls her wrist towards her chest before wrapping it in a white cloth she pulled from her robe's pocket. She laughs softly and ruffles Sam's hair. He instinctively flinches away from the contact.

Meg reaches a hand out to pull Sam up again, but he refuses her help and manages to stand on his own, the power of the demon blood surging through his veins like white hot flame. Meg hands Sam a pair of black leather shoes with red soles and he immediately slips them onto his cold feet. She gives the Boy King a reluctant half smile, "You'll be staying in here for the next few days," She says suddenly, "We still have to finish up getting a few things ready for you." Her tone slowly shifts into a whisper, "We _really_ didn't expect you so soon."

Meg then takes her leave and walks through the set of doors that Sam had considered escaping through just minutes earlier. A loud 'click' echoes through the room as she locks the doors behind her. Sam jumps at the sound and buries his face in his hands before laying himself down onto the bed. Tears fill in his eyes as he begins to view the grotesque mural once again. The jeering faces of the roman soldiers below the cross make Sam grimaces as his eyes travel up the lifeless body of the acclaimed son of god. The detail is incredible and leaves a sense of realness that Sam can't shake. Blood pours from the wound across Christ's chest made by a Roman's spear to increase his suffering and speed up his untimely demise. The holy figure's mouth is agape in what seems like a permanent scream of agony and his hollow eyes are cast upwards, as if he is begging for his father to end his pain.

Sam swallows thickly and averts his eyes from the scene as he wonders if Jesus actually lived, or if he was just a tale conjured up by the church to gain more followers. He begins to unexpectedly notice the stark similarities between himself and Christ. Would he be remembered as a martyr? Or would he be forever known as the _Boy King of Hell_? The teenager who single handedly brought hell on earth. At that moment, Sam decides he will do whatever it takes to destroy Lucifer, even if it results in his death.


End file.
